Past Participles
by Feather Gambler
Summary: Time traveling isn't necessarily the worst thing. It seems feelings don't change much, no matter when you are. Even if you fall flat on your face, you're still moving forward, right? Post Phantom Rising DISCONTINUED
1. Prologue: Dilapidation vs Deliberation

_**Prologue:**_

_**Dilapidation vs. Deliberation**_

_..._

_Cronus_

…

The chair I was currently occupying served no purpose other than assisting me in keeping a cool head. The stone was icy enough to remind me not to lose myself in my anger; yet, at the same time, I was remarkably elated.

Theresa had put forward a splendid performance today, it was about time one of the heroes had a bit of a breakdown. She was only human, after all. Things like these restored my assurance in the fact that I was, in fact, on the winning side. That, and of course the new-found loophole in that pesky prophecy.

I'd already suffered a defeat humiliating enough to keep that lot of hormone-infested brats satisfied for the time being. I felt myself flinch at the very thought of their wretched "good" intentions. Never send a child to do an Olympian's job. It was enough to bring bile to my nerves. I pitied the humans and their uselessness, the whole septet of them. They had no way of knowing they were just being used to keep the population of lazy gods from having to lift their own languid fingers.

Although, I could quite use the outcomes of this situation to my own advantage.

I sat up straight in my chair; I would finally be able to put this ancient throne to good use. That is, if everything went according to plan. All I was in need of now, was a plan. I slumped back down dejectedly and fingered the stony arm rest. Plans were running low, and the element of surprise I'd attained would have to be put to good use one way or another. Opportunities like these don't hang around for very long… unless you make them.

What was I? Corned beef? No, I am the god of time and space. A plan would come together, and in less time than I imagined possible. I definitely ought to stop thinking like a mortal; time was not of the issue. Using my own powers against the mortals would not be enough, but, using their ancestors' powers against them along with my own would be enough to get me where I needed to be.

How to do it though?

My own abilities are shattered enough as it is, another excursion down that road would mean fragility and weakness in almost every sense. Time in Tartarus has undermined my power, and pushing it further would only bring me down. I clenched my fist. This should not be so difficult! Perhaps I needed to think more abstractedly, out of character, do something unexpected.

There was a point in time where most of the heroes' ancestors did meet, and that was the intended game point. However, sending all seven of them back to that very era would drain my abilities completely. Perhaps sending only one? No, it would be too easy.

If I'd sent out Jay, the whole group wouldn't be able to find him ever again, even with the help of Odie. I know full well that whole group would do anything to find their leader, but would it be worth the risk? Such a hazard would fracture the whole outcome.

Getting them all there was a crucial point in the plan. What a tragedy. There was one thing that would work though, but that would put too much of a toll on all of their sensitive little hearts now wouldn't it?

Tragedy indeed.

What happened today couldn't have been more convenient. Jay and Theresa, the thought was almost sickening. Aphrodite definitely had a bit of a say in what happened between the two of them, now didn't she?

Jay, the headstrong leader of the group, didn't seem the type to fall like a lost, little, lovesick puppy. Love is a strange thing, and if it was fate for the two of them to meet, who was I to stand in their way? Yes, this would work nicely. The pair of them would be inseparable from now on. Jay would follow that girl anywhere, and the rest of the group would follow him. It was as if the world was meant to work out this way. Buy one, get six free: definitely worth the risk. There was only one problem, how to keep them there long enough for the preparations to come to fruition?

Like all decent Greek tragedies, Death would take its toll.

A smile crept across my lips and I could feel my features contort with glee. This was definitely going to work, whether they could help it… or not.

_**...**_

_**Reviews very much welcome =]**_


	2. Chapter 1: Oval Harmony

_**Thanks a million to all of my reviewers! classofthetitans711, Little Miss Illusional and Saturn-fox.**_

_**The rest of the story will be written from Jay's perspective. All reviews and constructive criticism welcome. =]**_

…

_**Chapter 1:**_

_**Oval Harmony**_

I stepped out of the bathroom, shaking a few loose droplets out of my hair. There was no one else about this floor, only the feint hiss of sleeping breaths put forward the idea of any signs of life; well, that and Herry's ominous snoring. I suppose I owed it to them all, today was pretty hectic. No one, not even me, expected Theresa to flip out the way she did. Although it paid off in the end, in more ways than one, I sincerely hoped something like that wouldn't happen again anytime soon.

I yawned and scratched the back of my head. Some of the beach sand caught under my nails sifted into my clean hair and I grimaced in both frustration and annoyance. Shaking my head again, I tried rubbing the lassitude from my eyes. Today definitely wasn't my day. Leaning my back against the bathroom door, I sunk down to the fluffy, sky-blue carpet, streams of water running from my hair down the back of my neck.

Things like the day's events just aren't easy to absorb, at least, not all at once. Every little problem seemed to be caught in a bubble at the back of my mind, popping every few seconds to reveal a new aspect of the worries I was already facing. It was difficult to consider most of my thoughts; I didn't even feel like delving shallowly into my mind's inner workings.

I knew there was no easy way for any of this to go down, but Forgive and Forget just seemed like the easiest thing to do right now. Going back to the way things were before was shaky business. Stressing and obsessing over Cronus was one thing, but adding Theresa's mental health to the nest of soap suds in my head would make it a great deal more impossible to even think about dealing with; and that kiss!

As amazing and breathtaking as it was, I didn't really know if it was the right thing to have done. I mean, sure, Theresa was vibrant and classy and stunning and… well, she was practically perfect. Except, pretending something like this never happened is absolutely and entirely out of the question. What was I to her, anyway? She means a lot to me, just like everyone else in the team, it's just… I don't really know how much.

I put my finger to my bottom lip. It was still rough and swollen from her kiss, but in a good way. I kissed Theresa, and I know that she kissed me back; I mean I could still taste her soft, sugary lip balm. She had to have feelings for me, right? I groaned and dropped my head into my hands, not knowing what to think anymore. Girls are so confusing!

None of this contemplating was getting me anywhere, of that I was at least sure.

I sighed and got slowly up onto my feet, my head was spinning erratically and one of the things I'd desperately been yearning for was a good night's sleep. That would help clear my head at least a little, though I doubted I'd get very much of it with all the bells and whistles ringing soundlessly and irritatingly in my head. Better late than never, I suppose.

Reluctantly, I stopped dead in my tracks, ears peeled. Focusing, I heard a short, twinkling melody ricocheting through the vacant hallway, but it sounded almost muffled, as if someone were trying and failing to stifle the sound. I followed the tune wearily; it was resonating from Theresa's bedroom.

As tired as I was, I couldn't help but let my curiosity be piqued, there was something absorbingly magnetising about the jingle. Creeping up to her door, I slowly leaned my head forward until my ear was pressing on the wood. The music was soft and peaceful, almost calming; why would she be trying to hide it? Not really wanting to be alone with my thoughts, and looking for an excuse to try and sort out some of my confusion, I let the slight pound of my own impulses take over me and knocked softly, but firmly, on her door. The sound my knuckles made against the hard wood filtered through the hallway, sounding much too loud in the silence of the sleeping dorm.

There was a thump and a shuffle on the other side of the door and the soft music suddenly came to a stop with a click. I could hear Theresa squeak a slight hiccough at the sight of me when I opened the door and stepped inside her room. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dimness of the bedroom, the fresh scent of green apples flaring up my nostrils. The sweet smell was almost intoxicating.

Theresa sat up straight in her bed, her covers pulled up to her chest. She looked at me blankly, almost unseeing. I took a step closer to her bed and she tensed, so I moved back a bit. I couldn't read her expression; she was completely vacant other than the slight furrow in her brow.

I cleared my throat, "Everything okay?" I asked, offering a smile.

This seemed to snap her out of her silent reverie, "Huh? Oh, uhm… yeah, I guess so." She rubbed the back of her neck and smiled at me sheepishly.

"Well… okay then." I stated the words flatly; trying to avoid the awkwardness was going to be harder than I'd thought. "I guess… I'll see you tomorrow then."

What else could I say?

"Yeah, okay." Theresa looked back down at her duvet.

I turned on my heel to get out of this situation that I'd so openly sauntered into as quickly as possible, striding unintentionally into her door-frame as I did so. My shoulder smacked into, or rather collided with the dark wooden beam and I grunted out of habit, regretting putting myself in this position.

Faster than I expected Atlanta to be, I could feel Theresa's dainty hand on my other shoulder. My mouth drooped into a firm line as was customary whenever I did something unanimously stupid.

"Are you okay, Jay?" she surveyed my appearance to reassure herself of any lumps or bruises. I did the same to her, only a little more discreetly. She wore a pair of faded grey running shorts, and a mint-green T-shirt with a large picture of a pink ice-cream cone on it. Some of her hair fell down over her eyes and she tried to swallow a yawn, looking haggard, but still dazzling.

"Yeah," I smiled again, rubbing my shoulder, "takes more than a brick wall to break me down." I assured her pitifully.

She almost giggled, "You're probably right."

I swallowed. Another awkward silence came down on us, but this time, I was determined to make it out of the door in one piece. I turned to leave but Theresa stopped me, placing her hand gently on my shoulder again.

"Jay?" she started hesitantly.

"Hmm?" My reply sounded nasal.

"Would you mind… staying for a while? I could really use some good company." She folded her hands behind her back almost bashfully, chewing on her bottom lip to keep herself awake, that, or it was just out of habit.

Truthfully, I considered it. I too was sick of my own company, but this time I refused to let the awkwardness embody the room. Even with the loss for anything constructive to say, I just did the very first thing that came to mind: I bent down to Theresa's height and scooped her up in my arms. She almost yelped in surprise.

"Oh, really?" I challenged, carrying her over to her bed. "Don't you think it's a little past your bedtime?" She was clinging to me helplessly, smiling as she did so; probably afraid I would drop her. I smiled down at her as she flailed around, completely at ease in her presence. I loosened my grip around her legs and torso, dropping her softly onto her bed and plopping myself down next to her. She elbowed me playfully.

"Well, hey, if Mr. Responsible can stay up then so can I." she stated in a mocking tone.

I raised an eyebrow, "Mr. Responsible, hey?"

She folded her arms defensively, "It's not a threat, Jay."

I shrugged. "Never said it was; I just find it a little surprising."

Theresa pouted. "And why would that be?"

"It just tells me how much you _really_ know about me." I replied, stretching myself out across her bed. Her sheets were disorganised but so extremely comfortable, I almost fell asleep right where I was.

Theresa prodded my rib with her index finger and I jumped, "Okay then," she said slyly, "spill."

"Beg your pardon?" I asked a tad confused.

"You heard me," she replied, "I want to know everything about you."

"Now why would you want something like that?" I closed my eyes indignantly. Theresa leaned over me and propped her elbows onto my chest. I opened one eye and caught her gaze; she was smiling innocently down at me, her head resting on her hands.

"Please?" she mock-begged.

I sighed, "What do you want to know?"

A stray curl fell down over her cheek and she blew it out of the way. "Hmm…" she bit the nail of her pinkie. "If you could be any animal in the world, which would you be?"

"A monkey's uncle." Theresa slapped my arm. "What? What kind of a question is that anyway?"

"Just answer it." She ordered.

I sighed. I had absolutely no idea; it wasn't as if I'd spent sleepless nights contemplating such a thing. "I don't know, maybe an eagle?"

"Okay," she stuck her tongue out in concentration, "what's… your favourite colour?"

I looked up at her sceptically, "Theresa, these sound like questions you'd get out of one of Neil's horoscope magazine things."

"And for all you know, that may be true." She teased.

I narrowed my eyes and looked up at her with a defiant expression. "Maybe green?"

She cocked her head to one side, trying to examine my face in the darkness. The only light in the room was that which was seeping in from the hallway. There was another moment of silence, it stretched on for a bit but it was less uncomfortable this time round.

I cleared my throat, wondering if Theresa had gotten distracted by her thoughts or fallen asleep on top of me.

"Something wrong?" I questioned softly.

She shook her head and her hair toppled down in front of her, "It's just that I don't really know what else to ask you." Her finger traced over the underside of my wrist, circling the rough skin of my forearm.

"Do I really bore you that quickly?" I taunted. She gasped a laugh, as if she were trying to hide it and stay serious.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Theresa retorted sarcastically, in the same tone that I used.

"Probably not, though it would be nice to hear _your_ opinion on something for a change." I added.

"And what exactly would you want me to say to that?" she yawned.

"Anything you'd like, preferably without the sarcasm." I joked.

She huffed. "Like what exactly?"

"You could start by telling me why you can't sleep." I offered innocently. Theresa went silent.

I waited, but she said nothing.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I asked after another pause.

Theresa smiled dejectedly, as if she were trying not to cry. "I just miss home is all."

I nodded, "_Is_ that all?"

"Can I be quite frank, Jay?" she looked down at me.

"I guess."

She paused, biting her lip again, uncertain, but quickly got over it. "I'm sorry, Jay. I didn't mean to flip out the way I did today."

The sudden change in her tone caught me off guard and I was slightly speechless for a second, trying to comprehend what she'd just said. I composed myself again and spoke my mind as honestly as I could.

"You know, Theresa, I really don't even care about that anymore. I just wish you'd tell me why you're really so worked up." By worked up I, of course, meant miserable.

She looked me up and down before letting her words run out of her mouth, "Jay, it's just that I don't really know you as well as I'd like to, and I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing to make up for that enormous blunder I made today. I don't even know how I'm supposed to act around you or whether I'm distracting you from what's really important. I mean, we've already kissed, more than once, and if it's distracting you from your own thoughts then-"

I put my hand over her mouth. She stopped talking and I sat up straight. "Theresa, you're babbling," I smiled deviously, "are you_ nervous_?"

She looked at me sceptically and moved my hand away from her mouth. "Jay, I'm serious."

"So am I." I moved closer to her, she sighed with irritation and turned away from me. "In my honest opinion, Theresa, you're worrying about nothing. I thought _I_ was supposed to be the paranoid one."

"Excuse me?" she pointed the words.

I raised an eyebrow subjectively, "I think," I began, "that you should let it go."

She snorted and looked down, "Easier said than done, I'm afraid." She whispered.

I rolled my eyes and tried to follow her line of sight, which was getting increasingly difficult in the badly lit room. I couldn't tell exactly but it looked like she was absent-mindedly staring down at something on her bedside table. It flashed silver in the little light that there was.

"Alright then," I said lying back down again, "why is it bugging you so much that you made a mistake?"

"Because," she hesitated, "I don't want it to happen again."

I sighed, "Look, I doubt you'd be doing something like that again. Stress is all it is, I'm sure you'll be fine."

"What makes you say that?" she mumbled.

"I know you, Theresa. Or I at least hope I do. You've been awfully secretive lately, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Force of habit, I guess." She saw my baffled expression and groaned. "I just mean that before I came here… no one's really actually taken any interest in me."

"Well, why not?"

Theresa gave me an annoyed look and waved the question away, "I'd rather not get into that."

I shrugged. "I don't mean to sound like I'm arguing about this, but maybe you should."

"No thanks."

"Another time then." I agreed. She gave me another look and the room suddenly went silent. I could still hear Herry snoring two rooms away, but both of us were really only concerned with our own thoughts. There was a soft clap of thunder outside and sheets of rain started to free-fall from the sky, adding to the sound of Theresa's slow, deliberative breathing. She shifted her position every now and again to make herself more comfortable next to me, not that I minded really. I liked having her so close to me, that way she just didn't seem so distant and off in her own little, crazy world of ideas. I was the first to break the silence.

"How do you do it then?" I asked her.

She looked at me, her head resting next to mine on the bed. "Do what?" she questioned.

"Deal with it, I mean the anxiety. If you don't talk to anyone about it then you must have something that releases some of that tension." I pointed out.

She was quiet for a moment, hesitating and calculating whether or not she should share such personal information with me, or so I'd imagine. The quiet stretched on for a few more seconds before Theresa cleared her throat and then spoke in a soft voice.

"I have this… music box." She confided tensely. "My grandmother gave it to me as a christening present. The tune always reminds me of her and… it calms me down, helps me think straight." She tucked her face into her blankets, muffling her voice, not wanting to look at me after revealing something like this.

Theresa sounded worn out as she spoke, worn out and despondent. I was glad she'd chosen to share this with me, though I wasn't exactly sure how to react either. My fingers crept over the loose sheets in search of hers; her hand was cold and smooth. As far as I could remember, Theresa had _always_ had cold hands and her skin was _always_ soft. She seemed moisturise almost religiously. She sat up, not letting go of my hand, and reached for the silvery object on her bedside table, lifting it slowly into the little light to show it to me more clearly.

The contraption itself dangled from a thin, erbium-coloured chain. Thick, black swirls forming feathery pictures were engraved all around the oval-shaped ornament, with one word scrawled neatly onto the front:

_Theresa._

Theresa looked at the device longingly, and then down to me. I proposed an expression that gave her all the invitation to open the clasp. She read my face perfectly and unhooked the tiny silver clip that held the box closed, leaning back to take in the familiar melody. The tune was as I'd remembered it in the hallway, only clearer now than the muffled sound I'd heard before. It sounded old and meaningful; every note came after the briefest of pauses and held itself together with a repetitive harmony, the rain outside added a soft resonance to the glimmering song. The music did have a very calming effect, I could feel myself relax more and more as the tune carried through my nerves.

The cog emanating the song snapped down softly, putting a slow stop to the music and letting the walls emulate the sound it had emitted. I looked over at Theresa's face; the music had carried her to sleep, leaving her breathing deeply and peacefully by my side. I watched her respire and let my own mind get lost in the sound of the falling rain outside, the rattling of the mechanical melody sinking deeper and deeper into my soothing dreams.


	3. Chapter 2: Humane Habits

_**A great, big thank you goes out to classofthetitans711 and Little Miss Illusional for the reviews, they were greatly appreciated! The story may be moving a little slowly but just bear with me and I promise you will not be disappointed.**_

…

_**Chapter 2:**_

_**Humane Habits**_

I lay still, at peace with myself and the bordering crossroads at which my mind was lingering, stretching both toward a reluctant consciousness and my own floating dreamland. I drifted in a haze between sleep and motivation to wake myself up. Oozing into a sentient state of mind through my own rhythmic, balanced breathing, my eyelids strained at the very idea of opening. The world around me shone in an embodiment of morning light, the crisp white of the ceiling just aching to induce a mindful of bottomless consideration.

The soft tumble of feather-light sheets and the smell of fresh apples wafting up my nose were the only things distracting me from falling back into a passive disposition. I lay suspended between my own contemplating and my body complaining about having to get itself out of its current comfortable position.

I couldn't really remember my dream, or whether I'd even had one at all. The only thing that really came to my attention, and with good reason, was that there were no nightmares. No bad dreams at all, just a suspended, deep sleep that left me rested and ready for anything. Nightmares, as with anyone, were a bad sign for me, particularly considering the fact that I only ever got them when I felt confused, or worried… or scared.

Certain circumstances had left a lot of these feelings reeling and weighing me down. They were instantaneously and sometimes simultaneously protruding inside of me, to a point where I'd lately decided to avoid sleeping all together.

It was always the same one though, never even a slight change or detour in its progression. I stopped believing that I was asleep when it came. The images, the situations, the people, the feelings; they were all too frighteningly vivid. Although this happened much too often as of late, last night was a dreamless heaven where I could even feel myself floating in a seamless, unwavering reality. There were no worries, no danger, just comfort and peace – perfection at its very best.

I took in another deep breath, watching the patches of light dancing across the ceiling in erratic, deft twists in the little patches clouding the middle of the ceiling above me. The screens on the windows didn't completely block out the light, they just heightened their contrast against the peppered ceiling.

I noted something peculiar while staring mindlessly upwards. I wasn't where I was supposed to be. This wasn't my room. This most definitely was not my usual state of mind. Letting my eyes graze down from the ceiling, my line of sight sauntered around, taking in the rest of the room. It was all oddly out of character: The fresh morning light filtering through the room; the full length mirror taking up a whole wall opposite the bed; the egg box filled with green seashells on the dresser, all the piles of multicoloured scarves and T-shirts littering the white carpet; the bookcase piled full of old, romantic classics; and, most peculiar of all, the sleeping beauty beside me.

The morning traffic filled the room with a sound similar to that of rumbling ocean surf, matching the wave of calm, sleeping breaths Theresa radiated. Her skin was a soft pink tinge and her peachy hair glistened in the morning sunlight. We'd fallen asleep side-by-side across her bed, listening to the mingling sounds of the night rain and the silver music box now resting in her open palm.

Theresa was still dreaming heavily, unaware of the world lighting up around her. Thinking and knowing it was probably best that I got out of there as quickly as possible, I sat up slowly and let my feet down onto the soft carpet. I could only guess at the questions the others would ask if they could see where I had been the night before.

I tiptoed my way across the room, poked my head out of Theresa's door and looked into the narrow hallway. The shower was running and swirls of steam were emanating from beneath the bathroom door. Either Neil or Archie had grabbed the opportunity to take a long, early shower. Softly closing the door behind me, I flitted into the hall and up to my own bedroom, feeling that a change of clothes would be appropriate. I couldn't spend the rest of the day in my makeshift PJ's now could I?

Tossing my gray shirt aside, I bent down to grab another one from the floor, my toothbrush in my mouth. Maybe the other bathroom downstairs would be unoccupied and I'd get a chance to brush my teeth before heading out for a run. I stepped out of my room again, moving toward the staircase when I crashed into Archie and crumpled to the floor.

"Watch where you're goin' will ya?" Archie commented. "You'll poke someone's eye out with that thing." I guessed he was referring to the toothbrush still in my mouth.

"Nothing wrong with a sense of hygiene." I shot back, taking the thing out of my mouth. "Wouldn't hurt you to try it sometime." I added.

"Oh, ha-ha. Very funny." He helped me to my feet and swung his towel over his bare shoulder.

I blinked, "Was that you using all that hot water in the shower?"

"Yup." He smiled proudly and marched off toward his room, closing his eyes contentedly and putting his own toothbrush into his mouth. He's always been the indifferent type, I guess. There wasn't really a way to make conversation with him. I shrugged it off and made for the bathroom on this floor instead.

The walls were dripping with steam and a cloud of it blocked the tiled floor from view. I turned and locked the door behind me before I did anything else. I stepped over to the mirror, it was fogged up completely, and for some reason it reminded me of the last time I'd gone sailing. The sun on my face, the wind in my hair, the fresh sea salt against my senses; nothing but water for miles and miles. The world around me fading into the background like the distance put between myself and all the land. When I was younger and the world was against me, I'd just imagine myself kidnapped by pirates and put to work on a pirate ship, the endless seas ahead of me. Nothing could compare. The only thing that could even come close… was the idea itself.

I snapped myself out of it. Sailing? That sounded like quite the idea, other than the fact that I had to stay focused on Cronus. There was no telling what he could be getting up to after what Theresa had done to him. That crazed gorilla of a god would most likely have a plan underway, and I doubted he'd be very merciful this time round.

Shaking the thoughts out of my head, I wiped my hand across the clouded mirror to clear it and stared at my reflection. Today wasn't going to be a day for worrying about such things. I owed the others a break, and I could use a little free time myself. I wouldn't necessarily have the authority to declare today a holiday, but seeing as I really didn't feel like doing much other than enjoying the day, I could definitely say that there wasn't much that needed doing. If people had plans for today, they had the 'go ahead' from me.

I quickly brushed my teeth and checked my reflection. I still didn't have my shirt on. I must have dropped it when I'd bumped into Archie earlier. I sighed and turned on my heel. Big mistake.

The cloud of steam above the floor rendered it completely invisible to my eyes, so ergo everything on the floor was invisible too. The wet, green towel on the floor gave way as I set my foot down on the cotton. The towel gave way and I skated across the tiles, shooting up into the air when I lost my balance. It sent me sprawling and I could imagine myself flipping over like a floppy pancake as I landed flat on my back, a loud _crack_ echoing through the room. My head throbbed when I tried to open my eyes, spots tangoing across my vision. My sight clouded over and my sinuses felt stiff, making it harder for me to take in enough air before slipping into an inky blackness.

…

_Tap, tap, tap._

There was a strong noise coming from somewhere I couldn't see. That was because I couldn't see anything. My world was black. Something inside my head intended to keep it that way, making me reluctant to open my eyes. Not that I didn't want to open them, it just seemed too difficult.

_Tap, tap, tap._

The noise came again. It was a sharp sound, like a key knocking against a glass window. It made my head spin. The more it came, the more hollow it sounded.

_Tap, tap, tap. "Ja…?"_

This time it was accompanied by a shrill voice. That sound hurt my head more but it kept coming, until it annoyed me so much I just had to try and wake up.

"_Ja…"_

My eyes didn't open, and I wasn't prepared to open them, but my whole face felt heavy, swollen almost, as if I'd tried to breathe under water and all of it came rushing up my nose. I tried my best to pull myself out of whatever dream I was having.

"_Jay?"_

The voice was clearer now. I could hear perfectly, I just couldn't see, nor could I remember where I was or what happened, but I could feel the cold, hard floor beneath my back.

"Jay!"

The sound didn't hurt anymore; it was still a tad too high pitched for my liking though. The voice on the other side of the darkness was muffled but loud.

"Jay, open the door!"

"Let me open it for him."

"Wait a minute, Herry. Jay? Can you hear me?"

"Let Herry open the door already!"

"Stop yelling at me, Archie."

"I wasn't yelling at you, I was _instructing_ you."

"He's been in there for a whole hour already, guys. Do something!"

"Go use the bathroom downstairs, Neil."

"But, it's so… _small_!"

"Neil!"

That voice was extremely loud, like they all bellowed in unison or something. The talking carried on but I stopped listening, trying to make a noise, to signal that I was okay. Nothing came out of my mouth so I tried opening my eyes again. My eyelids only twitched but a bright light shone through them, I knew I was okay to try again.

"I'm taking the door down already."

"Hold on, Herry."

"What is it now, Theresa?"

"Watch it, Archie. Do you guys think he's… decent?"

There was silence.

"Let's just open the door; you girls can stand back if you need to."

My eyes still wouldn't open. My body felt heavy, like I hadn't slept enough and I was trying to drag myself across the floor, except I wasn't moving. A loud bang and hurtling footsteps resounded through my ears and it just made my head hurt more. I groaned loudly, letting out some of my frustration.

"Is he okay?"

"Jay? Wake up buddy."

Someone lifted my eyelid, enough to let me see through the darkness that was there before. Yet the only thing I could see was a giant mass of purple. Everything else was blurry. I blinked and a hand was placed under my back, supporting me enough to get me to sit up off of the cold floor.

I blinked again, letting the light fill into my eyes. I lifted my hand up to my head and groaned again, shaking the confusion away as best as I possibly could. There were now numerous hands on my shoulders, keeping me from falling back onto the floor. My head still throbbed agonisingly.

"Archie?" I managed to grumble the word.

"Come on; let's get you off the floor." He lifted my arm and wound it around his neck, pulling me up to my feet. Herry put my other arm over his shoulder and helped Archie pull me out of the bathroom, my feet dragging limply across the floor. We were in the hall again, I tried my best to balance on my own but in the end, I just gave in to the stronger arms supporting me.

A strong gust of wind swarmed past my ear as Atlanta raced through the corridor and galloped down the stairs. She returned a few seconds later, carrying a cluster of multicoloured throw pillows under her arms. She came up to me and dropped them on the floor at the base of the wall in front of Neil's bedroom. Herry and Archie lowered me onto the pillows, letting me fall onto them to get more comfortable. I bent forward, resting my head in my hands.

All of their mumbled voices came together as a menagerie of aggravating prattling and gabbling. They were all expressing their concern, and I was deeply grateful for that, but if only they could calm down enough to let me hear my own thoughts instead of all their incessant jabbering. I held up my palm, beckoning silence. The chatter stopped instantly and I looked up. The back of my head still pounded, dizzying the sight in my right eye.

Everyone around me had expectant, troubling expressions; waiting for me to say or do something to assure them that I was perfectly fine, if only a little shaken. The words wouldn't come, and all I wanted to do was fall asleep right where I was.

A cool, soft hand pressed up against my forehead and my neck jerked slightly, welcoming the relief held by the calm touch. Theresa. She knelt down beside me on the floor, concern overcoming her dazzling green eyes. Her pink lips parted slightly and her brow furrowed, taking in my appearance. I was sure that I must have been quite the sight to her, looking like I'd just staggered out of a bar after having one glass too many. It was funny; she didn't really look like herself. She seemed drained and… solemn almost, as if she'd just come back from a tiring camping trip. Her face had a few tiny scratches on it and it looked a little dirty too, or maybe that was just my swirling vision getting the better of me.

"Jay?" she asked cautiously. I grunted a reply, not yet fully capable of saying anything. That would hurt my head too much.

"Come on; let's get you to a doctor." Said Archie, trying to get me to my feet again.

"Wait." Theresa put her hand on my chest to keep me down and out of Archie's grasp. "Shouldn't you take him to what's-his-name…? Chiron, instead?"

Archie folded his arms and looked down his nose, staring Theresa in the eye condescendingly. "Why would we do that? This could be a real emergency, and I doubt Chiron would have the exact skill of a neurosurgeon to detect any major problems. He could have fractured his skull, or have a concussion." He waved his arms in the air above his head.

Theresa stood up to Archie's height. "Chiron can deal with this, trust me Archie."

Archie pouted and looked stubbornly in another direction.

"Please, Archie?" Theresa pleaded. "At least just go to him first, and if you still feel like something's wrong afterward, then we can go see a doctor." She pouted too and looked down to me.

Theresa was pleading me for assistance; the only things standing out to me in my confusion were her beseeching glances. I didn't want to ignore her argument against Archie, so I managed to choke a few words out. "Chiron… first."

Archie sighed, "Fine."

Atlanta and Herry just stared at this exchange, feeling no need to add anything or make any arguments. Herry bent down again to help me up and slung my arm over his shoulders again, carrying me off to his truck. Archie marched down the stairs in front of us with Atlanta trailing behind.

Theresa grabbed my shirt from the floor and came up next to me and Herry, handing it to me. I took it in a bundle in my free hand, watching her as she quickly spoke. "I'll go get Odie and Neil and bring them over in my car; you guys get going so long." Theresa said quickly before sliding down the banister beside us and jumping off the end. I'd never seen her so energetic before, she looked like she was just waiting for something to happen.

…

"Ouch!" I jumped at Chiron's touch; he prodded and poked every inch of skin surrounding my skull, managing to find all the tender spots first. I sat shirtless on his small examination table, trying my best not to scurry away from him as quickly as possible.

"Hold still, Jay." He insisted for the third time. "There doesn't seem to be any damage at all, though I fear you may have a slight concussion." He picked up a small torch and shone it into my eyes. I winced at the sudden intensity of the bulb against my pupil, sneezing while trying to blink away all the light disturbing me.

"Any chance he can just walk it off?" asked Herry.

Chiron put the torch away and spoke softly. "It's nothing serious, although you may want to try and stay off of your feet for a while. I doubt there's any serious harm done."

"What do you think Theresa would say now? Huh, Archie?" Atlanta taunted. I knew all she really wanted was for someone to say 'I told you so' to the boy.

Archie grunted and looked away, changing the subject. "Now that you mention it, where are Neil and Odie already? Did they try to pack the shower in the trunk while Neil was still in it or something?"

As if on cue, Neil's bitter whining echoed through the open doors of Chiron's study. "Why are we even here? At school? On a _Saturday_?" he pointed to me, "You see, he's fine. Can we leave now?"

"Neil," said Odie, annoyed, "just give it a rest already." He walked into the room with his hands in his pockets, his usual stance.

"Where's Theresa?" Atlanta asked the question burning in my mind.

"She hung back at the dorm to take a shower." Said Odie. "She let us borrow her car though." He tossed the keys to Herry for inspection.

"Theresa let you _drive_ her car?" I asked, completely flabbergasted at the thought.

"Yeah," added Neil, "she let him drive! Not me, him!" he pointed at Odie with a peeved expression and folded his arms, pointing his nose in the air.

Odie just smiled smugly. "Guess you're not the lucky one after all."

"Okay, guys," I said, "let's just get out of here. I'm not really in the mood to spend the rest of my Saturday in school." I hopped off of the table and slipped my shirt over my head while the others walked out of the door, Neil ranting and raving about unfair treatment. Something moderately heavy and cold fell to the floor at my feet. Hanging from a silver chain, was Theresa's music box.

I bent to the ground and curled my fingers around the chain, lifting it into the air and examining it to make sure that what I was seeing was real.

Why would Theresa leave one of her most valuable possessions with me? Did she give it to me on purpose or was she trying to tell me something? I supposed I'd have to ask her when we got back to the dorm. I put the silver music box in my pocket and made my way out of Chiron's study, catching up with the others as soon as they stepped out of the janitor's closet.

Their chattering and joking continued while I lagged behind, deliberating through my own thoughts. If I did get a chance to go sailing today, I'd insist on taking Theresa with me, there were still quite a few things that I would like to clear up with her; that, and I just wanted a bit of an excuse to be around her for a while.

The others had come to an abrupt stop by the school's front doors, nearly leaving me crashing blindly into Neil's back. I looked over his shoulder, seeing the incredulity painted clearly over the rest of my team's faces; and they were pulled up that way with good reason. All you could see through the open doors, beyond what was left of the school's parking lot, was a New Olympia that looked like the middle of a war-zone.


	4. Chapter 3: Long Live the King!

_**A big fat hug goes out to classofthetitans711 and purplepeace for reviewing the last chapter! More action will come soon, so remember, patience comes greatly rewarded.**_

…

_**Chapter 3**_

_**Long Live the King!**_

I stood back trying to blink away my confusion. Don't tell me I'm hallucinating now too? The look on the others' faces told me everything I needed to know, this was really happening. What I was seeing was actually true. Unsure of how or even why, something had happened during that half hour we'd spent in Chiron's study. The question was… what?

Atlanta was the first to break our stunned silence. "Guys, are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"Yup." Archie replied simply.

"I don't get it," said Neil, "we're here at school, on a _Saturday_, and the whole town goes up in smoke. I think it's a sign."

"Neil, get over it already." said Odie. Neil folded his arms and looked away.

"We need to figure out just what exactly is going on here." I said. "Archie and Neil, go find Hera and Ares to explain what's happened. Odie and Atlanta, you go get Chiron and Hermes to see if they have any theories about what's going on." They all nodded and sprinted to the janitor's closet, Neil moping behind them as they went.

"What about me?" Herry asked, standing up to his full height and carrying a serious expression.

"Herry, you're coming with me." I said. "We need to go find Theresa."

He nodded and I pushed the door open again, this time taking in everything I could see. Every other building besides the school looked torn and foreboding, most of them were completely destroyed or dismantled, and others looked like they were the verge of collapse and ruin. The streets were crowded with cracks and various pieces of litter floating around in the strong wind, making them look unused and completely desolate. The sky was clouded, completely obliterating the beautiful sunny day that enshrouded the day before; but the worst and scariest thing, was that there were no people around. The usually crowded pavements and busy roads gave way to a complete lack of activity. Cars stood empty, shops closed and broken down. There was absolutely no living soul lurking around the area. New Olympia had been transformed into a dilapidated ghost town.

Herry got into his truck and I climbed up into the passenger side. He started the engine and we drove past Theresa's shiny, red sports car that Odie and Neil came to the school with. It was parked skew but it was the only other car in the clear lot. Once Herry had made it onto the main road, we could tell just what bad condition it was in. The school was the only thing standing out as being untouched, along with the parking lot which looked brand new compared to the rest of the road.

Herry's truck pushed its way through most of the rubble in our path, leaving behind an open trail in all the trash behind us. He seemed to be deliberating his surroundings just as I was. Though Herry didn't look it, I could tell he was confused and worried in the same way that I couldn't stop stressing about where Theresa was, that, and I was puzzling over just what could have gone on. I knew she would be alright, because I just couldn't fathom her getting hurt, she knew exactly how to take care of herself in practically any situation.

Looking out of the window, I couldn't help but feel a little lost. None of the buildings around me looked the least bit familiar. Their worn out structures and falling bricks added to my concern, such things just didn't happen overnight. What if we couldn't find Theresa at all? What if-

Herry shoved his foot onto the brakes and his truck stopped suddenly, sending a jolt through my body and making me fall back hard against the hard car seat. The tyres disrupted puddles of water from last night's rain, scattering large drops of water and letting them drizzle down the window next to me. As the beads of water receded, a dirty, brown building revealed itself in my peripheral vision.

It was the brownstone.

Or at least what was left of it. I wouldn't have recognised the building had Herry not stopped the truck so suddenly; it would have just looked like any other broken down construction in the road. Both of us stared at our home in disbelief. What we were seeing couldn't be true, it was just too impossible. Where we had been eating breakfast and hanging around only half an hour before, stood nothing but a part of the dorm's front door, with the mail slot missing. It looked like it had been that way for years.

Everything else on the lot was either a pile of cinders or spread out debris, the wind carrying dust in through the broken down walls. Herry opened his door, leaving the truck running, and sauntered over to the door, hesitating. I stepped out of the truck and joined him, eyeing the remains of our home. Herry reached out slowly for the doorknob, hovering over the handle and then little by little letting the door swing open on one of its hinges.

I took a peek inside before I stepped through the door-frame. The tanned 'Welcome' mat lay singed on the floor, which was shrouded in a carpet of browning leaflets and papers with the same words printed on with red letters. I couldn't read the lettering to know exactly what they all said. Only arches and door-frames stood up against the half-broken-down walls, leading up to the kitchen, into the living room and down to the basement where Odie's room was. The stair case was cut through the middle, parts of it charred like the bases of the walls and floors. There was no ceiling over our heads; ergo the second floor was completely gone with only piles of broken bricks to show that it was ever there in the first place. The eeriest thing was in the way the dust had settled, as if it hadn't been disturbed in ages, like there was no-one here to clear it all up. A ghostly fear came over me; the dorm seemed lifeless, dead. Not just that, but the whole town felt completely abandoned, tossed away from civilization like a candy wrapper. Not even an insect wanted to make itself present.

Herry moved through the dusty archway into the kitchen, examining the remains of the fridge and various appliances. The door to the basement hung loosely on its hinges and I stepped down one step, testing the light switch in the hall. Obviously, it didn't work and I felt silly for even thinking it would. I went down further and every step creaked loudly under my weight. One of the wooden planks gave way completely and came out from its holds, skirting down the rest of the stairway and making a thunderous, clamouring noise as it went, tumbling down into the dark silence below.

I held my breath, reaching for my PMR as a light source. The walls down here were still somewhat intact, not considering the cracks running down the walls on either side of me. I tried my best not to think that what was over my head at that moment could come crumbling down on top of me at any second. The hallway seemed incredibly spooky and I kept my guard up as best I could. A pipe was dripping a foul-smelling liquid down in a corner of the hallway and the only thing masking the odour was the rancid stench of age-old dust. The only things that were ever down here were the doors to Odie's bedroom, a bathroom, and the laundry room.

All three of them looked like they'd been shut tight for years. I stepped over to the laundry room door, slipping my Xyphos into to my palm as I went. The door emitted a deafening shriek when I pushed it open, but it was completely dark and empty, all the washing machines and dryers gone. I moved over to the bathroom door and tried to push it open, only it wouldn't budge at all. Something must have been blocking the way from the other side or the hinges hadn't been properly oiled since the last time I was down here, which wasn't very recent.

Lastly, I motioned towards Odie's bedroom door, but something stopped me in my tracks. I straightened my back at the sound of running footsteps behind me, the sound echoing over the rough concrete walls. The noise made Goosebumps run over my arm and I shivered. My hand twitched over the doorknob, etching nearer and nearer, my ears peeled for any other sounds. As soon as I touched the handle, a fierce war cry came from the stairs leading down to the basement and I turned on my heel to confront whoever or whatever it was. I held my ground until the last possible moment, letting whoever it was think they had the advantage.

I sidestepped, and the person's arm collided with Odie's door. They sprang back into action and lunged for me. I whipped out the blade of my Xyphos and aimed. The person knocked against me, pushing me face-first to the floor, they were nimble enough to duck out of the way of my half-mastered attack and put all of their weight on top of me, rendering me completely helpless. I let out a grunt when I tried to push them off of me and a light flickered down the stairs as my sword shot out of my hand and across the hard floor. Whoever it was on top of me was now trying to choke the life out of me with their cold, bare hands.

"Jay? What's going on down here?" it was Herry coming down the stairs. My voice strained when I tried to answer him. I couldn't get my voice to carry far enough to even hear it myself.

The person on top of me gave a light gasp and climbed off of my back. The light from Herry's PMR flashed in my direction as I sat up, trying to catch my breath again. I looked around me fiercely; trying to find whoever it was who attacked me. Herry shone the light of his PMR around the small hallway and we both searched, holding our breath.

A figure sat huddled in the corner, their back to us, rocking back and forth and muttering slowly in a low voice. Herry lifted me to my feet and we approached the figure slowly, cautiously, trying to figure out what they were saying.

"It can't be real." They said. "You shouldn't be here, it's only a dream. It's only a dream."

I stretched out my hand to the mumbling figure, reaching for their shoulder to turn them around so that they could face us. Herry focused the light on the figure, a familiar raid of dark amethyst shining in the light. I touched the person lightly and they turned their head to the two of us, looking straight through me and Herry, unseeing, caught up in the meaning of their own uncomprehending words.

"You can't be Jay. You shouldn't be here." They said, still rocking back and forth like a frightened child. "Jay should be dead."

It was Athena.

…

Athena sat on one of Hera's lounge chairs, sipping a mug of hot tea. Hera and Ares stood on either side of her and the six of us leaned, stood and sat around the congregation of gods. Archie and Atlanta sat side-by-side on the other couch, watching Athena and the other gods. Neil leaned against a pillar near the corner of the room, still within earshot, trying to mind his own business. Herry and Odie sat on the steps near Hera's peacock sanctuary, speaking in hushed voices, and I stood behind Athena's chair, taking in everything that was being said.

"Athena, what happened?" asked Hera, her brow furrowing.

"I don't know where to start…" she said in a small voice.

"Athena," said Hera, "what do you know about the state of the city? Why does it look this way? We need to try and figure out what has happened."

Athena looked away, not wanting to speak at all. Herry stood from the steps and walked over to Hera, Ares and myself, pulling out one of the browning leaflets from his pocket.

"This might help." He said, holding it out for Hera's inspection.

She took it from him and tried to smooth out all of the creases and folds before holding it up to the light. Through the light, although the paper was very old, you could see a faded, watercolour image of Cronus' large, ape-like face; with large red letters in front reading: _Long Live the King! _It was exactly something you'd expect that egocentric ninny to do.

Hera turned back to Athena and asked her again, "Athena, what happened?" she put on the most serious tone of voice I'd ever heard her use.

Athena looked down at her mug. "Cronus." She said slowly. "Cronus did this. He came here to New Olympia; he knew where the children were staying." She started shaking.

"Please, Athena, this is important. Please go on." Said Hera soothingly, with a touch of impatience in her voice.

"The prophecy, the Oracle said the prophecy was imbalanced, that something was amiss." She sipped her tea. "Cronus came here because he knew where all the children were; he came when he knew he'd be able to catch them off their guard. He… killed you, Jay." She looked at me, "I saw him do it with my own eyes. You can't be alive." Her voice became hysterical all of a sudden.

Hera put her hand on Athena's shoulder. "Please, Athena, what did he do to the city?"

Athena wouldn't stop looking at me, her eyes on mine as she spoke, afraid I would disappear if she lowered her gaze. "The children weren't here to protect all the people, they were all hurt. It's been two years since Cronus did what he did, everyone is hiding from him. He's ruling half of the continent and most other countries all around the world. Everyone runs from him and hides from him out of fear of his power and mercilessness. All the other gods fled to Mount Olympus, but I stayed because I knew that somehow one of you would come back again. Hera," she turned her eyes away from me onto Hera, "why don't you remember? And Herry, how did you, Archie and Odie come free from Cronus' confinement? He took you with him, away from here to Tartarus. Why don't any of you remember anything?"

Chiron came into the room while Ares attempted to calm Athena before she got too far out of hand. He looked at the state of her and pulled Hera away from the goddess, beckoning all of us, except for Ares who was a little too preoccupied, to come too.

Chiron stamped his feet a few times before starting. "Athena is telling the truth, or at least what she believes to be true. Hermes and I both agree that we have all been confined to an altered time frame, which I fear was Cronus' doing."

"What do you mean, Chiron?" asked Hera.

"I mean that Cronus has found a way to change the reality of this world, bending it into a way that suits him best. He's gone back to a point where we all were completely helpless and vulnerable and has done something drastic to affect the sequence of events that lead up to the original prophecy."

"But then," Atlanta started, "why don't we remember anything that Athena's been telling us? Shouldn't we at least have some idea of how this is supposed to work?"

"And why am I the only one that's dead?" I asked.

Chiron cleared his throat, "The school, as I've said before, prevents any alteration of time occurring within its walls. You were all in my study, safely within the walls of the school, before any of this happened, Athena wasn't. So she would remember everything because she was there when the alterations occurred, you all weren't." He turned to me, "Cronus had a particular dislike of you from the moment you two met, and I fear he was just acting on a whim when he slew you, he was afraid of you, Jay."

My chest tightened at his choice of words. We had an advantage then, Cronus didn't know I was still alive. I could work with that.

"So are there like two of me in this time zone, or what?" asked Neil.

Chiron rolled his eyes, "No, Neil. You are all still in your present condition, no matter where you were in this altered frame, you've managed to escape that place and are now here in this room with everyone else."

"Yeah," added Atlanta, "a world with more than one Neil wouldn't have been able to survive for very long."

"Or at all." Snickered Archie. They shared a hi-5 behind their backs.

"But we're all okay, aren't we?" asked Odie, looking around at us. "I mean, we look completely fine."

A jolt of electricity shot through my body when I had a sudden thought. Theresa wasn't with us in Chiron's office, so she wasn't at all protected by the school when Cronus did whatever it was that he did. Right now she would be somewhere else, maybe even in danger, maybe Cronus had gotten to her. Cronus had already taken over most of the world since he'd been freed two years ago; it was already too late to do anything too drastic without his notice. Who knew where he had eyes and ears lurking around? The numbing feeling held together in the back of my mind, reminding me of something I'd been wondering since this whole scenario started. Where was Theresa?

I turned away from the group and looked over to Athena, catching her eye while she tried to make sense of everything around her. She looked up at my serious expression and waited. Everyone else turned with me to see what I was doing. I looked Athena in the eye and asked my burning question with an obvious tone of direct urgency.

"Athena," I began slowly, "do you know what happened to Theresa? Where is she now?"

Her brow furrowed and she looked around our group, taking in everyone's expectant expressions. I held my breath when Athena looked back to me and opened her mouth to speak in a small, confused voice.

"Who is Theresa?"

…

_**Please, please, pretty please leave a review? I appreciate all of your thoughts and opinions and even constructive criticism! If you are at all confused with the whole time thing PM me and I'll do my best to explain everything!**_

_**~Toymaker**_


	5. Chapter 4: Home Sweet Home

_**Thanks to purplepeace and classofthetitans711 for reviewing! I love you guys to bits!**_

…

_**Chapter 4**_

_**Home Sweet Home**_

_Proteus was an early god of the sea, son of Poseidon and a herdsman of his seals. He can foretell the future, though he can shape-shift to avoid having to. He is unable to tell a lie when captured and questioned, though he will only address his captor. He was once captured by the son of Odysseus in his attempt to find his father on his return from Troy._

I closed the dusty book with a thud and leaned my elbows onto the old wooden table, letting my head fall into my hands. Chiron had told us that the best way to figure out how Cronus had altered the time line was by rereading most of the Ancient Greek myths and history to see if anything major were amiss. Though I would much rather get out of this depressing hole called a public library and go look for Theresa myself. My mind still wouldn't settle, even though Chiron told me to put that part of my brain on hold for the moment.

We were in the city's public library because apparently any books within the gods' sanctuary library would not have been altered at all since well, it's inside the school. The place really didn't look like a library anymore, there were huge gaping holes in the walls and half of the roof had been torn up by some or other creature, gray light flitting in through every opening. Books, catalogues, guides and files were scattered across various tables where we'd been working, a few of them too worn to even touch or look at. The elements really had a go at this place.

Archie's face was hidden by a large guide to mythology and I had a sneaking suspicion he had fallen asleep while pretending to read through it. Atlanta and Herry were huddled between two large bookshelves, scanning and discussing the pages of a large book with browned pages. Neil lay on the rug, flipping through the pages of a thin catalogue of Ancient Greek clothing, looking completely bored and irritated at his task. Odie had left us to go poke around in the physics section in search of something more constructive to do.

I knew I would do absolutely anything to set things straight and find Theresa so we could just go on with our normal lives, but I would really have loved to take other plans into account and go do some of my own investigating. Nevertheless, I felt obligated to stay with my team while they all, well most of them, worked so hard.

I sighed and stood up, scraping my chair across the floor, to go and put away the old, leather-bound encyclopaedia I was reading through. I stood in the corner, placing the book on the shelf and then leaning back against the dirty wall to gather my thoughts. The pungency of all the dusty light in the room made my head spin.

We hadn't seen any living thing around here since we'd found Athena, and I was starting to worry if we'd ever find anyone. The city was dead, abandoned. I didn't expect to find any person here, but I hoped there would be someone other than us out there; I wouldn't like to even imagine what Cronus had done to everyone else who had stood in his way. Maybe there weren't any people around here but that didn't mean that there weren't people outside of the city.

I looked down to where Neil lay sprawled out on the floor. Our current circumstances didn't seem to have any effect on him whatsoever, or if it did, he was very good at hiding it. I trudged lightly over to his section and nudged him in the ribs with my shoe. He didn't look amused, staring blankly up at me with a scowl, unable to muster up enough enthusiasm to make a complaint.

"Hey, Neil." I whispered. "Let's get out of here and go get some real work done."

He sat up straight and raised his eyebrows suspiciously, "Where are we going?"

I smiled slightly, "Road trip."

He sprang to his feet excitedly, "Alright!"

I shoved my hand over his mouth and put my finger to my lips. He took the hint and kept quiet. I didn't really want to get the others involved with the plan, Hera had told us to stay in the city while we were figuring out what exactly was going on and where I was going, I needed all the luck I could get. I knew Atlanta would be the first to freak out if I did anything spontaneous, and Archie would be the first to complain because I took Neil instead of him.

The two of us tiptoed past Atlanta and Herry who had their backs to us, talking animatedly about some ancient war hero. Creeping past Archie's slightly snoring form, we sprinted down the creaking staircase and out the front doors. Theresa's sports car and Herry's truck were parked just outside the decrepit building.

We were standing on the narrow landing in front of the entrance. I looked at Neil and he looked at me, both of us slowly turning our heads towards Theresa's car. Without warning, the two of us skidded down the front steps and raced ahead for the driver's side door. Both of our hands reached the handle at the same time and I yanked the door open.

"Come on, Jay!" Neil whined. "You already drove us here, it's my turn!"

"Neil, stop being a baby." I ordered. "Besides, you don't even know where we're going."

He lifted his finger to make an argument but thought better of it, turning to walk around to the other side. I ignored his pouting and got into the car. The keys were already in the ignition when I sat down so I twisted it to start the car, revving the engine as Neil sat down in the passenger's seat. My foot grazed the pedal ever so slightly and we shot down the street, top down. The wind just seemed to blow us further down the road, past all the old shops and empty hotdog stands littering the unkempt pavement.

We didn't have to stop at any of the lights because, obviously, there was no one to stop us; so we just kept going, gaining more momentum with every kilometer. We got onto the highway just outside the city and a few miles later Neil took to entertaining himself by posing in the rear-view mirror. He had been in a sour mood since yesterday because he didn't have his mirror with him when he and Odie came to the school, so he ended up losing it in the alternate time frame.

Even the highway was deserted, though now and again we would see a dirty raccoon or a stray dog running away from us down the side of the road. The sun was getting lower and lower in the distance, but it didn't look like it would be setting for another two or three hours.

Neil sighed dejectedly; the awkward silence in the car was almost tangible. I opened my mouth to try and make conversation so that the journey wouldn't seem as long as it was. I closed it quite abruptly though, because Neil's PMR went off with a loud buzz. He looked at me, wondering whether he should answer it or not. I nodded and he pushed his finger down halfheartedly on the small green button, raising the device up to his face.

Atlanta's face took up the screen, her cheeks almost as red as her fiery hair. "Jay, where are you guys?" it took her a bit of effort to say the words that calmly.

"Relax Atlanta," I warned, taking Neil's PMR in one hand, the steering wheel in the other. "You'll explode if you don't take a deep breath and count to ten or something."

She shook her head in irritation, never tell girls to relax. "Where are you?" she repeated, more tensely this time.

"See for yourself." I said, holding up the PMR to show her around the car and through the windshield to the open road in front of us.

She sighed and massaged her temples. "Hera and Chiron aren't happy, you know. When are you going to be back?" she asked as a last resort to calm herself.

"Tomorrow afternoon most probably." I said slowly. She sighed and Archie took her PMR, looking completely sullen.

"Why did you take Neil with you?" he moaned. "Now I'm stuck here with all the boring people."

"Give me that!" Atlanta roared. I hung up and tossed the PMR back to Neil and he put it in his pocket, going back to staring out of the window, not uttering a single word or sharing an opinion. I looked over at him and cleared my throat, but he didn't seem to notice.

"So, Neil." I started and he lifted his eyebrow. "I'm curious."

He turned in his seat to look at me, his head resting in his hands. "What about?" he asked, uninterested.

"You left your mirror at home, but you brought your PMR?" I raised my eyebrow pensively.

He shrugged, closing his eyes and raising both his eyebrows innocently. "I'm not that shallow." He said quietly. "I know which things are more important."

We crossed the fenced border into North America, no guards around to ask for our passports or anything else. An empty van near the side of the road housed an army of creeping plants and various little critters. Neil looked at the scenery around him, twisting and turning in his seat to get a glance of everything before we sped past it.

"Jay?" he asked softly. "Where exactly are we going?"

I kept my eyes on the road in front of us; it was getting really dark now.

"Jay?" he asked again.

I shook my head at his questions and pressed my foot down harder onto the pedal. Where were all the people? I expected to see at least one living soul by now. Why was there no one around here? We reached a small farming town, most of it dilapidated and ruined like New Olympia, only not as badly.

"Jay!"

I ignored Neil, too preoccupied by my own thoughts. Something here wasn't right, and it was actually starting to scare me. Not even the radio was working properly, it was only emitting static. People of the world didn't just disappear like this. Cronus was running some kind of disturbingly sick operation around here, and I wasn't exactly sure I wanted to know just what it was.

"Jay!"

Neil's shrill voice snapped me out of my thoughts and plummeted me back into Theresa's car.

"What is it, Neil?" I was getting really annoyed now.

"Where are we going?" he demanded to know, folding his arms.

I sighed, what I'd seen convinced me that my plan wouldn't go as smoothly as I would've liked it to. Taking a deep breath, I let my voice drag out my words.

"Theresa's house."

Neil blinked in silent confusion, sniffing to let me know that I should continue and explain my plan to him.

"The only way we're going to find out what happened to her is by finding and analysing whatever clues we can find and every other piece of evidence we can get our hands on. Athena never met Theresa which means Hermes never really rescued her from the first time she got attacked by that giant. So in this reality, none of us have met her either."

"Okay." Neil said, "Go on."

"The Oracle said that something was wrong with the prophecy, and that was because Cronus, the Cronus from our time frame, must have gotten to her before Hermes did."

Neil sniffed again. "So what exactly are you expecting to find when we're there?" he asked.

"Well, I was hoping we'd be able to talk to her dad when we got there." I paused. "But by the looks of things around here, I doubt we'll be able to find anyone out and about the town other than ourselves."

He looked thoughtful for a moment. We drove down into the more suburban blocks of the secluded town, the houses growing further and further apart. We'd only used half a tank of gas on the way here; I guess that's the result of spending most of the journey on cruise. Neil watched while I skirted the tyres onto the rough pavement and parked Theresa's car with a jerk, facing the big black gates in front of her father's house.

"Spooky." Neil drawled eerily, looking over in my direction. "You'd really do anything for this girl?" he asked cocking his eyebrow.

I nodded slowly. Of course I would do anything for her.

Neil cleared his throat. "Well then, I guess I'm inclined to help you." He opened his door and stepped outside winking in my direction.

I watched him as he went over to the gate to, very exaggeratingly, examine the dark steel bars. After a long process of chin rubbing, Neil lifted his left index finger and pushed distractedly against the metal. The rust on the bar crumbled under his touch, and with it went three more bars. Neil turned to me with a smug grin when I got out of the car, bringing the emergency flashlight form the glove compartment with me, and he bowed when I walked past him.

"Good thing you've got me around, huh?" he looked up.

"Lucky me." I said sarcastically.

"No," he stood up straight, "lucky me."

I rolled my eyes at his remark and stepped through the crumpling, rusty opening Neil had made. The ground felt soggy under my shoes, every step I took toward the house followed with a grungy, wet sound which was then echoed by Neil's footsteps behind me. Most of his footfalls were followed by a muffled "Ugh."

I chuckled softly at his high maintenance temperament, but I was ever grateful for his willingness to do everything he could to help me out. He really was a cool guy, behind all the whining and tantrums that is. I was glad to have him there with me.

The huge house loomed ominously over us, making me feel small and completely insignificant under its darkened silhouette. Neil gulped behind me; the gloomy iridescence of the house was enough to send chills down the back of my neck. It wasn't torn up or ruined; it just looked abandoned, as if it were sulking at being left behind by its owner. The only thing that made it look remotely damaged was a tiny hole in one of the front windows. The front steps and the big oak door were covered in mottled dirt and mud that sprayed up against them during the rain. It fell to the ground as soon as you even breathed on it.

I twisted the knob on the front door; it was unlocked and swung open with a stretching creak. Neil came up the steps and stood next to me. I didn't really want to go inside, I was afraid of what I would find in there, or more importantly, what I wouldn't find. My feet wouldn't move forward, it was as if they were nailed to the floor.

Neil cleared his throat. "You know, I doubt there are any Boogie Monsters or vampires in there, I'm not making any promises about Theresa's dad though." He smiled at his own joke.

I rolled my eyes and took a step inside, it was really dark. All the curtains were drawn, not letting any of the bright moonlight outside into the house. I switched on the flashlight; it brightened up most of the front room, but not enough.

"Come on, Neil." I said.

"Where are we going now?" he asked, slumping his shoulders.

"We need to go find another flashlight so that we can split up."

He sighed, "I wouldn't know what to look for."

"We'll worry about that later." I said as I walked into a great, big kitchen.

Neil whistled appreciatively. "I've found my holiday home."

I had to open three doors before I found the pantry. It was the first place I thought to look because that was where my parents always kept spare flashlights. I stopped. My parents, where were they now? I shook my head, no time for such thoughts now. I reached up to the top shelf of one of the cupboards; there were only empty cans of bug sprays and a box of matches. I put the matches in my pocket, the next cupboard held only a few ceramic bowls and other weird, fancy crockery.

The last cupboard in the row was filled with candles, but no flashlight. I took a long one out and handed it to Neil, he eyed it suspiciously.

"Does this thing even work?" he asked, looking the candle up and down.

"It's our best bet." I said. "Hold it still." I struck a match and lit the wick of the candle. It glowed brightly but it smelled of burning dust.

Neil curled his nose at the smell. "Trade?"

I sighed, "Fine."

I gave Neil the flashlight and took the candle from him. "Better?" I asked sarcastically.

He sniffed the air around him. "Much." He smiled.

"Great." I said with false enthusiasm. "You take this floor, and I'll go upstairs."

He nodded and gave me a corny salute, "Roger that!" and he marched out of the kitchen.

I rolled my eyes and headed for the staircase, something had eaten through a few of the wooden planks on the floor already, exposing some of the basement below. I sauntered carefully up the stairs, cautious as to not break any of the boards away like I did in the brownstone. Most of the ceiling and almost every corner were dominated by long, spindly spider webs covered by dust and the exoskeletons of dead insects. The candle gave off more light than I'd expected it to, letting me see everything surrounding me, even the browning wallpaper.

The absence of life around here was making me uneasy; I didn't want to drop my guard. The floorboards groaned under my weight when I reached the top of the stairs. The air stunk of heavy grime and some kind of mould was growing down by the wall's skirting. It was darker up here than downstairs and a whole lot spookier too. There was only one long, wide hallway with over a dozen closed doors taking up the landing. One of the doors had old yellow police tape practically painted over most of the wood. I tried my best to ignore that part, I'd look into that later.

The first door on my right opened up to a small bathroom, the next to a broom cupboard, the one in the far corner to an empty bedroom, the one across from there to a children's playroom. I moved to the other end of the hallway, another bathroom, but next to that was one of Theresa's father's studies. I stepped inside, the computer was covered in filth and the connecting wires were chewed through by some kind of mouse. Next to the screen, on the wooden table, were a display of silver picture frames. The pictures themselves were obscured by a thick layer of dust. I sat down on the leather swivelling chair and wiped some of the gunk away. The first picture was of Theresa's father and some woman with green eyes, the next one was of that same woman with a sleeping baby, and the last one in the row was one of Theresa's school photos, she was smiling half-heartedly, her eyes downcast.

I put all the pictures back in place and sighed. The last time I'd seen Theresa, she looked tired – as if she'd been put through a series of train wrecks and lived to tell the tale. She'd been oddly positioned; she was clutching her stomach and breathing heavily. I hadn't noticed it then but now I can remember it clearly enough. Maybe she'd just gone for a run outside and got tired when she came back and the others found me. She did look quite sweaty if I picture it clearly, but in a good way.

I really hoped we'd find her soon.

I swivelled around in the chair, thinking what else I could do around here that would be at all useful. The only idea that came to me was to invade this house's privacy even more than I already had. I yanked open some of the drawers on the desk and peaked inside. A large photo album lay nestled between some other stationery. I pulled it out and started to page through it. Most of the pictures in the beginning were of Theresa's father when he was younger, with that same woman. This sequence went on for a while and I skipped through most of them. Then came Theresa's baby pictures, family reunions, parties, sleepovers and from when she was younger. There was a photo of her and the woman, who I guessed was her mother, when Theresa was about four or five, she was hugging her from behind and smiling into the camera. I took the picture out of its sleeve and stuffed it into my wallet; I wasn't used to Theresa smiling like that.

I turned the page and… blank. There was nothing there other than a great big heading that read: _Theresa's 6__th__ Birthday._ It was neatly handwritten on the top of the left page. There were no more photos after that either, the rest of the photo sleeves were empty too. I put the album back into the drawer and closed it. Something happened on Theresa's sixth birthday, and I was determined to find out what.

I stood and scanned the rest of the room. The ancient-looking printer had a stack of papers beside it. I didn't know what drew me to it, but I walked over there and lifted one of the pages, holding it up to the light of my candle to read it. One bold, capitalised word stood out to me: _MISSING_, and beneath that was a scan of Theresa's school photo. I dropped the page and it floated down to the ground. It wasn't that I was that shocked by what I'd just read, I dropped it because of the person breathing down my neck behind me.

"You shouldn't be snooping around where you have no business." Said a gruff voice. I turned quickly on my heel, and there stood the one person I had never expected to see.

…

_**Reviews make the world go round; I appreciate any feedback, even if it's just one word! Or two, or three^^**_

_**~Toymaker**_


	6. Chapter 5: Catch and Release

_**Thanks to purplepeace, HoneyGoddess57, kiwiamber and AngryOlympian for reviewing my last chapter! I hope you guys enjoy this one too.**_

…

_**Chapter 5**_

_**Catch and Release**_

I gulped loudly and faced my aggressor with open palms. I didn't feel that provoking this person made any tributes to my health, nor did I want get myself into any more trouble. My assailant was a man, probably in his early-twenties, who looked like he'd just woken up from a bad night's sleep. His hair was a tousled, dark shade of gray, with the lightest spurts of blue standing up around his face.

He wore heavy, dark clothing, and matching dark shoes that looked like they would really hurt if he tried to kick you. If he made an attempt I'm sure he would easily be able to blend in with the shadowed walls. He bent his neck forward, hiding most of his face from my view, but I didn't have to look that closely to catch the murderous look he was throwing at me.

He was holding a sharp knife-like thing against my abdomen that he'd probably made by himself. I gulped again, but not out of fear, rather out of surprise. I hadn't expected anyone other than Neil and myself to be lurking indignantly around here. I'd probably seen this man before when I came with Theresa to visit her father once, but he held no real air of familiarity. He was a stranger to me, a stranger with a weapon, who probably had no line of patience for me to make any excuses for my being there.

My hands shook for fear of what harm he could induce with that gadget of his, but my voice remained firm and I still had my slight tone of authority that I used whenever I yelled at Archie or Herry for doing something disobedient. I cleared my throat and tried to sound as innocent and reasonable as possible.

"Who are you?" I asked slowly.

He raised his eyebrows with defiance and grunted in a way you'd expect an old man to. "What makes you think you're allowed to ask any questions?" he practically spat the words at me.

The only way to get across to this guy was by doing as he said, but I had more than a ton of questions for him. For one thing, what was he doing here? I didn't want to hurt him either; there was no need for me to show any hostility towards him, as long as he didn't do anything other than point a knife at me, that is. I really didn't want to get on the wrong side of him either.

He looked me up and down, surveying my appearance with a sneer. He grunted again, like a grumpy old man or Archie would. I still had my palms raised and was deliberating whether or not I should reach for my Xyphos and lunge for the guy. He moved closer to me, I could smell his sharp, hot breath against my face. We were about the same height and I sensed the tip of his weapon pointing into my hip. He looked like he had a permanent scowl tattooed onto his face or something.

"No Ringlet is going to take over this house." He mumbled more to himself than to me. He looked right into my eyes and spoke pointedly. "What gang are you a part of, boy? Speak up!"

"I'm sorry. Wha-" I started to say before he put his dirty hand over my mouth.

"Quiet!" he hissed.

I listened to hear what he was so worked up about, hoping he'd get his hand away from my face. The stairs leading up to the hallway creaked under the weight of someone coming up the stairs. If Neil were coming up here this guy would think that I had an accomplice or something. I couldn't tell whether that would be a good thing or a bad thing. This guy would probably react defensively and try to slice me open if he had the chance.

Upon seeing the open door to the study, Neil veered this way, trotting as if he were distracted by the bright light his torch emitted. As soon as he stepped through the doorway the hobo-man took his knife-thing away from my torso and somehow managed to suddenly swerve me right around, twist my one hand behind my back and hold his weapon up against my throat threateningly. He was a lot stronger than he looked. I'll give him that much. I could smell his rotting breath as he spoke to Neil over my shoulder.

"Don't take another step or your friend here gets it!" he threatened in a clichéd manner. I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

Neil blinked, confused at the situation in which he'd stumbled into. He looked behind him just to check that it was he the man was referring to. He raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Excuse me?" he drew out the words.

"You heard me, Ringlet!" the guy spat maliciously at Neil.

"Ringlet?" Neil murmured, looking to me for assistance.

I shrugged and the man twisted my arm tighter between my shoulder blades. Neil lifted his torch and shone the light against the ceiling so that it would reflect against the white paint and illuminate the dark room. The man hesitated for a second, relinquishing his iron grip and removing his weapon from my throat.

I stepped away from him with aggressive speed, moving over to where Neil stood on the other side of the large desk and not taking my eyes off of the man. He stood in front of us, shock taped all over his grimy face and stock-still hands. The only signs revealing that he hadn't died where he stood were a few twitching fingers.

Neil cleared his throat, trying to get the guy's attention. A glimmer streaked through his eye and his lip twitched, curving up into a manic smile. Neil lifted his arm and recoiled, shielding himself from the disturbing picture in front of him. The rays from his torch shot flares of light against the dark walls and the man stepped closer and closer as we backed away from him slowly.

I gulped loudly at the sight of the lunatic-hobo-person who drew nearer, but, almost as quickly as he'd advanced, he'd come to a standstill in the middle of the room, three inches from where Neil and I stood. His lunacy vanished, replaced by a cheerful grin. He looked less hostile now, more like he'd love to give both of us a big, fat bear hug. I couldn't help but flinch at the thought of him touching me again.

He laughed and I looked at his expression more clearly, he looked gleeful, as if he were going to do a pirouette on the carpet and clap his hands like a monkey with large, round cymbals. This situation was thoroughly creeping me out and I was just about ready to turn and run.

"Praise the day you stumbled through this door!" he squealed delightedly. Neil and I looked at each other in confusion, simultaneously raising our eyebrows.

…

"The name's Raven," said the guy in a very matter-of-fact tone. He had a sharp English accent, tinged with a hint of American lingo. We were sitting around the breakfast table in the kitchen, trying to explain what we were doing here. Neil was leaning against one of the walls, absentmindedly switching his flashlight on and off to entertain himself. The moonlight streaming through the windows was enough to illuminate the dank, unused kitchen and let me get a proper look at Raven's face. He looked battered and tired, but his eyes were bright and expectant. He was watching Neil with profound interest, which grievously added to my annoyance as I was the one questioning him.

"Raven." I said sharply, and he reluctantly turned his head from where Neil stood to face me with raised eyebrows. "Excuse me for asking, but what are you doing here?"

His nostrils flared slightly in annoyance as he stared back at me and sighed. "My father was the groundskeeper here, and I used to help him out when I was needed. But the only reason I came here was to dance." His eyelids fluttered closed indignantly, as if he were daring me to respond to that.

"Dance?" I asked, confused.

"What kind of dancing?" Neil interjected a tad too excitedly for my liking.

Raven looked up at him with a slight smile. "Ballet." He said, his grin growing wider. "Russian Ballet." Neil's shoulders slumped slightly.

"Why?" the words blurted out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Raven looked at me quizzically, though he didn't seem to be offended by my sudden outburst. "They have a dance college east of the city, I've been training there since I was nine." He folded his arms over his broad chest and closed his eyes again, completely content at his achievement.

"There's a city?" Neil asked, flabbergasted at the prospect.

"Not now, Neil." I scolded. "How old are you?" I turned back to Raven.

"Nineteen." He answered pointedly. His muscles seemed to indicate otherwise, as if he were older than he was letting on.

"And why did you try to kill me just now?" I continued.

He looked me up and down and then shrugged. "You would have done the same if someone broke into your house."

He had a point.

"Then, why did you let me go?" I asked, more curious now than before.

Raven narrowed his glare, and pointed at Neil. "Because you're friends with _him_."

Neil and I exchanged a long look, slowly turning back to look at Raven with equally baffled expressions.

"What do you mean?" Neil asked in a small voice.

Raven sat up straight. "What do you mean 'what do I mean?'" he looked at both of us. "Why are you even asking me this?" Neil's expression was blank when Raven turned his gaze on him. "You're Neil, right?" he asked, still pointing his finger at him. Neil nodded slowly. "Neil, the Rebel Leader?" Neil's eyes shot open wide.

At the same time, we both let out a cry of "What!"

Raven repeated himself slowly, enunciating every syllable. "Rebel Leader. How could you not know that? I've even met you before," he glowered at Neil. "I thought I was only being questioned for his sake." He pointed a finger at me this time.

"We've met?" Neil raised an eyebrow pensively. "I'm sure I would remember someone like… you." He said, giving Raven a quick once-over.

"Look," I said quickly, "we're not exactly from here, so we'd really love to know what's going on. I mean, what happened to everyone?"

"You two really don't know anything do you?" he sat back in his chair, covering his eyes with his hands and letting his head loll backwards. His other hand moved as he spoke. "About two years ago, the god of time, Cronus, escaped from his long, long, long, long, long imprisonment in the underworld. There was this prophecy of seven teenagers _destined_ to defeat him and send him back to the underworld or something."

"Yes, we know that part," I said impatiently, I just couldn't figure out why he knew.

He lifted a finger arrogantly. "So we don't live under a rock after all, do we?" He grinned. "Well, at least not all the way. Anyway," he continued, "so this prophecy. As it turns out, there were only six out of the seven that turned up for the show. The other one mysteriously disappeared or got cold feet. So Cronus ended up winning that battle." There was no emotion in his voice. "He killed the leader on site, threw three of them in Tartarus, which he now rules too, and the other two went off in hiding. There were rumours that the two had started up a rebellion and were planning on getting the other three out of Tartarus. You," he pointed at Neil again, looking up at him now, "are the leader. Well, it's you and that short redheaded girl with the aggressive temper. People started hiding too, but not all of them could get away. Cronus had started a group of secret police, the Ringlets. People stopped trusting each other, turning on their own families, friends and neighbours, all in fear of Cronus' power and depravity, and mostly of what the Ringlets could do to them if they were caught."

Neil fell back onto a chair, planting both his feet on the table and putting his hands behind his head. He looked tired, tired of waiting around and tired of where he was and everything he was hearing.

"I met you when you were trying to get through the border. Just you, alone. You let me come with you because you said you needed an extra arm." Raven tilted his head, "you always did have a peculiar sense of humour, it was the only reason you and I got along." He shrugged and Neil kept his eye on a fleck of dust on the tabletop.

I admit it must have been a lot to take in for him. Neil wasn't usually the type to get up and do something, but he was one of the most reliable people I knew, and Raven seemed to trust him with his life even. I'd always known Cronus would end up doing something like this if he ever got the chance, but I never expected Neil to be the one who took charge. He was a good leader, and he never really did get enough appreciation for the contribution he made to the team. Though most of the time he seemed to be keeping up a front, he was still Neil, and I respected him for that.

Raven turned on him. "Now it's my turn," he said quickly, his words rushing out ahead of him. "What are you doing here? I mean, in this house, of all places?"

Neil glanced at me, indicating that I was the one in charge; therefore I had to do all the explaining. I sighed and Raven faced me, waiting in earnest for a reply.

"The girl who used to live here." I said, my heart pumping faster with every word. "Theresa."

Raven nodded, "Yes, I used to dance with her. What about her?"

I swallowed; there was a large lump sitting in my throat. "We need to find her, there were seven teenagers in the prophecy, and she was one of them."

Raven looked me up and down. "That's horrible, are you sure?"

"Yes." I almost yelled. "What do you mean it's horrible?"

Raven sat up straight looking me directly in the eye. "Because she's dead."

My heart jumped and I could imagine it shooting out of my throat. Theresa couldn't be dead. Blood was filling my ears as I held my rage back, Theresa couldn't be dead.

"She can't be dead," said Neil. Raven looked at him. Neil manoeuvred himself so he could take something out of his back pocket and shoved it onto the table, sending up sparks of dust as he did so. He folded his arms and looked up at me. It was a newspaper clipping. "I found it in a desk in the other room while we were looking around."

I laced my fingers around it, picking it up gently. It was already yellowed and folding in on itself with age. Raven sat quietly, lost in thought, Neil had gone back to staring at the table. I scanned the page, quietly reading to myself.

_**A young girl and her mother were abducted from their home yesterday while preparing for an informal birthday party. There has been no trace as to their whereabouts or current states of health. Family of the victims wished to keep their identities anonymous, though it has been rumoured that the victims were the wife and daughter of the late Mr. Gabriel Spurr, the owner of several of the town's cattle ranchers.**_

The clip was short, but it gave me more than I'd bargained for. I looked up at Neil who was eyeing me intently. "She's not dead." He said again, trying to reassure me. I looked down at the paper again, and most of the hope I'd contained on the way here drained out of me.

"What makes you so sure?" asked Raven suddenly. "Even if she were still alive, after ten years, I doubt she'd be coming back here." He folded his arms. "It's not like she has anything to come back to anyway." He said slowly. "Her father killed himself just before her birthday, she only had her mother, and I doubt she'd be coming back either."

Neil's voice was soft, just barely audible. "She has us." I looked up at him and it felt like I was seeing him for the first time. His cheekbones were set at an angle that made him look fierce; he had a sharp glint in his eye, making him seem more determined than I'd ever seen him before. I trusted him, and he seemed to know exactly what he wanted to do next, as if he were confident and sure it would work. He'd only meant for me to hear those words, and they gave me strength enough to get back in control.

…

Neil pouted in the seat next to me; he still felt that it was his turn to drive. Raven had refused to come back to the school with us, "I'd risk a lot for you, Rebel Leader, but not going out in the dark when I know there are Secret Police around here just waiting to pounce." He'd said without much enthusiasm. We were rushing back through the border; it was probably just after midnight now. We could risk the Secret Police; we knew how to handle ourselves. I knew we had to get back to the school, all the information we'd gained couldn't wait until this afternoon.

I felt a burst of adrenaline, I couldn't help but feel a little anxious, and there were a lot of things racing through my mind. Things that were difficult to piece together. My empty stomach didn't help me much either. Most of the ideas running through my head included strange scenarios that didn't make much sense if I put them in perspective, everything involved something impossible and out of character for Cronus, which made it more difficult to think without a burst of frustration.

"Cronus is the god of Time," I said, thinking out loud, maybe Neil could help my train of thought along. "We know he's done something to the time stream, but we don't know how far that's stretched. In the original stream, we already met Theresa and her father was alive, so we can safely say he drove her dad to suicide and kidnapped her and her mother, dumping them somewhere in time. I don't think he wanted to kill her, he must have had a different incentive." All of this came out in a blur, I couldn't help spilling fact after fact, it helped me think.

"So now all we have to do is figure out where in time he sent them." Neil finished.

"Exactly." I said. "That, and we need a way to go back in time too." I remembered our last excursion down a time stream; we'd drained all the Seasons' powers and now had no way to get back in time. There had to be some way. I knew it.

"Well," said Neil, "I can help with where – when – she might be." He pulled the catalogue he'd been reading in the library out of his pocket and turned to a yellowed page, with the most peculiar picture I'd ever seen. Neil grinned devilishly. "I don't think I remember either Jason or the Argonauts wearing pants in their time."

…

_**Thanks to all my reviewers =] Please review and let me know what you think so far, and I'd especially love to hear what you guys think of Raven (odd character that he is). So please leave a review and have great day!**_

_**~Toymaker**_


	7. Chapter 6: TIMI

_**A very big thank you goes out to the reviewers of my last chapter! HoneyGoddess57, classofthetitans711, and princess101855! I apologise if my updates are a bit slow, it's only because I'm failing to keep my nose out of the books my mother bought for me last week!**_

_**,,,**_

_**Chapter 6**_

_**TIMI**_

Hera's private library was unnervingly quiet; nothing seemed to be out of place though. It was a comfortable silence though it still chilled me to the bone. After a raging fit of hand-waving and a theatrical rant about being left behind, Archie had taken to sitting in the corner and ignoring Neil and I as best he could, not even looking our way. Personally I was grateful for the silence. Atlanta had assumed charge of the position of being the angry, threatening one because we hadn't told her where we were going, nor had we cared.

She had pounced on us the moment we pushed open the front doors of the school, demanding to know where we had been and threatening to put worms in our cereal if we even thought about doing that again. Neil cringed at the thought and said he needed a shower for just imagining the outcome if she were to do as she warned.

She was leaning against a high bookshelf with her arms folded fiercely over her chest. I was pretty sure she would have given us the silent treatment like Archie was if she'd have thought of it first. She hated doing anything that made her look like a copycat.

Herry and Neil were sitting in a corner, Herry half asleep from boredom and Neil examining his reflection in a polished vase on the end table. Odie however, was nowhere to be seen. As soon as I'd shaken Atlanta off of me in the entryway, I'd called for an emergency meeting in Hera's library with all the gods and the rest of the team. Hera rarely let us use her library, unless it was for emergencies we were forbidden to enter. We'd been waiting around for more than an hour and I was getting restless and slightly peevish. I hated waiting around.

My foot was tapping the marble floor in irritation when Hera pushed the doors to the library wide open and marched in all businesslike, the other gods and Odie trailing in behind her. Hera came to a standstill just behind her desk and locked eyes with everyone in the room, other than Neil who was otherwise occupied, before she started.

"So, Jay, what is all this about?" she lifted her chin slightly and looked down at me sternly.

I stood up and relayed the events of the previous night over to everyone, adding emphasis to the fact that all the recent occurrences were all very steeply out of character for Cronus. I didn't like the looks on everyone's faces as I urged all the information out of me, my hands were clamped over the side of the table where I had been sitting, the knuckles turning white as my grip tightened. Every single one of my muscles tensed as I spoke. When I had finished and sat back down, Hera was quiet, her finger around her chin as if deliberating.

After a long silence she straightened her back and looked over at each one of us in turn, letting her eyes rest on me last. "If everything you've been telling us is true, Jay," she sighed, "then I am afraid it is more of a challenge than I thought it would be. Cronus has clearly taken up every ounce of the advantage over us and driven it further than I had imagined it possible for him to take." She turned and faced the window behind her. "How sure are you that Theresa has not been harmed?" her voice was soft.

"Cronus wouldn't kill her," Atlanta spoke up, "he's trying to outplay us and he wants to see how far he can take it before it affects us. Everything else he's done may be out of character but I doubt he would go that far?"

"But why wouldn't he kill her?" asked Herry. "All he really wants s to get the prophecy over with so that he doesn't have to deal with us anymore."

"As true as that is," Odie piped up, "he's too proud of himself. Cronus is like a child, he plays with his food before he eats it. He'd much rather toy with us than take us out immediately." Odie shrugged sadly.

"But what if he's just trying to take us out one by one?" asked Atlanta. "You know, let us try to fend him off alone before he thinks he's won?" she looked at me, all of her earlier anger drained from her posture.

"He likes to gloat." Neil added, bored. "And if there are no witnesses then who's he going to brag to?"

"Let's just think about this for a second." said Archie, it was the first time he'd spoken. "The only evidence we have of where Cronus sent Theresa is a picture in a catalogue that Neil found in the library. How do we know that Theresa isn't somewhere before that time instead?" he put his hands on his hips like a mother scolding her two-year-old. "And besides, why haven't we seen anything about her in the books we read?"

"_We_?" Atlanta inquired maliciously, mimicking his motherly stance. "You haven't done anything! You've been sleeping on the job, don't think we haven't heard your snoring or your sleep-talking!"

Archie flushed slightly, but didn't drop his stance, instead adding a glare. "Oh really? So you and Herry have been working _so_ hard? I saw you two hanging around and being lazy on the floor and complaining and-"

"Enough!" Hera said sternly, glaring at both Archie and Atlanta in turn. "This is getting us nowhere. We have an idea of where Theresa _may_ be, but we have no way to investigate the situation otherwise." She turned to the gods. "Hermes, Ares, do you perhaps have any suggestion as to what we could do next?"

Silence followed. Hermes shook his head and Ares closed his eyes as if he were making a warrior-like shrug, though he didn't seem very apologetic. Odie seemed to look around the room, turning to Hera last and slowly raising his hand.

"Odie?" her voice sounded hitched, as if she were trying to suppress a hiccough.

"I know a way we can investigate." He said and everyone looked at him, curious expressions filling the room.

"Well don't just stand there!" Ares boomed. "What is it?"

Odie grinned. "Follow me."

…

Hermes' tiny study was filled to the brim with everyone squeezed so tightly into it. We all stood around Odie, permitting him a semicircle within which he was allowed to move around as he spoke. He was standing just in front of the door concealing the portal. Odie faced all of us as he cleared his throat and spoke softly.

"The idea is simple." he stated, raising a finger and launching into an explanation. "The portal as we knew it was useful as a teleportation device, doing so by breaking down matter and transferring it to another location in a matter of seconds. So I got to thinking and realised that by means of a catalyst, I could enhance the portal's previous ability by letting it break down matter and bend it in a way that was opposite to its determined function. Meaning that it usually transfers your location, and with that all time moves forward, but if I could manipulate some of its actions in a way that it would take whatever matter was transferred backwards, then the matter would have the same effect as before, but only in a different frame of time." He scanned the room proudly.

"So it's a time machine?" I asked, a little flustered at trying to keep up with his explanation.

"In a way," he rubbed the back of his head. "The only difference to the ones in the movies is that you can't go forward in time, but other than that it's pretty much the same."

"So you just took the portal's original ability and added to it?" Hermes asked, more to himself than anyone else.

Odie beamed, "Yep. I call it the Trans-horologic Interconnecting Metaphysical Integrator." He looked at us. "Or TIMI for short."

"So that's what you were doing with all the science books!" said Herry.

Odie waved away the suggestion. "Please. Those were just for a little light reading."

…

I looked over at the others. We were standing in Hermes' study again, only this time there were no gods here other than Hera and Hermes. We stood around TIMI, each of us dressed in chiton tunics. Hera had congratulated Odie more than once on his invention and insisted we go to Aphrodite to get some clothes to put on before we left through TIMI to Ancient Greece. The tunics were shortened and reached just above the knee. Atlanta, who had been complaining furiously, wore a pair of ski pants just underneath her tunic, claiming she wouldn't be caught dead in anything remotely resembling a skirt or dress. Needless to say every time Archie looked at her he flushed a brilliant shade of red. After much disagreement Hera had let her wear them, knowing that when the fight was between Atlanta and skirts, Atlanta would always win. I made sure to put on three or four pairs of boxers before even considering wearing the tunic.

I didn't appreciate the sandals much either, they weren't exactly combat material. Least of all, I didn't want to think about what I would say if we did find Theresa, she'd never met us and I'm pretty sure she wouldn't like it if we just tried to pull her out of there and back here.

Each of us had a brown leather satchel to use to store all of our belongings and weapons. Mine only carried my Xyphos, a change of clothes and Theresa's music box.

Herry walked into the room, his satchel filled with energy bars from Hermes' mini fridge. Neil raised an eyebrow at him. "Those will only last about a week, you know?" he said.

Herry looked down at his bag than back at Neil, "Are you kidding? These are for the trip there."

Neil smacked his palm into his face, refusing to look at Herry.

"Settle down, children." Hera chided, turning to Odie. "Is everything ready?"

Odie looked down at the tiny remote control in his hand and nodded. "Sure thing, I got the remote in case we need to make a quick getaway. If my calculations are correct, it'll bring us back here about half a second after I push the button."

"Very well then." said Hera. "Go ahead."

Hermes opened the portal door and the familiar hazy blue swirled in front of us. As we discussed, Herry went first, followed by Archie, and then Atlanta and Neil, and lastly me and Odie. I turned to face Odie just before I stepped inside.

"Are you sure this thing works?"

Odie shrugged. "Have a little faith, Jay." He smiled and stepped through the portal.

I took a slight breath and followed, letting the blue engulf me as I stepped through it. No matter how many times I stepped through it I was always reminded of a cold shower. The noise of the swirling portal almost blocked my ears and I barely heard Hera as she shouted through the portal after me.

"Good luck!"

…

_**Sorry if this chapter's a bit short! I wanted to focus more on the science bits… Odie should have the limelight for a while don't you agree? And as always all comments and opinions will be greatly appreciated!**_

_**~Toymaker**_


	8. Chapter 7: Dearly Beloved

_**Once again a big thank you goes out to all of my reviewers! HoneyGodess57, AngryOlympian, classofthetitans711, Oriongirl and Neonz! I'm really glad you all like it!**_

_**...**_

_**Chapter 7**_

_**Dearly Beloved**_

The first thing that hit me when I stepped out of the portal was the ground. I could tell because I was lying face-down and inhaling dirt. My hands felt rough where I scraped them against the sand, I groaned loudly and irritably.

Herry stood next to me, holding his hand down to me to help me up. I took it and was pulled hastily to my feet. "Watch that first step." He smiled and pulled his hand back. "It's a doozy." I was caught between wanting to chuckle and stick my tongue out at him, but I stayed silent.

It seemed as if we were in some sort of desert just off of a peninsula, I could see and smell the ocean in the distance, and it wasn't that far off. A small fishing village inhabited the shores, only a few dinghies and fishing canoes spread out in the ocean around the houses.

Odie sat on a large rock, digging for something in his satchel and simultaneously trying to push his glasses back up his nose. I didn't really know how he was going to explain those away… no one in Ancient Greece knew what glasses were. He pulled a box out and opened it, there were about three pairs of contact lenses in the box and he was trying to put them in. At least he was thinking ahead.

Archie and Atlanta were continuing their argument a few feet off. Apparently Archie was making comments about Atlanta's 'too-tight' ski pants. Atlanta retorted with the fact that they were skin coloured and no one would notice them unless they looked really hard. Archie made an indignant noise and Atlanta promptly began beating him with her sandal.

Neil was leaning on a flat rock, scanning his surroundings and looking bored with his arms folded lightly over his chest. Herry stood next to him, searching his satchel for another energy bar.

I wasn't really in the mood for conversations and I didn't necessarily have much of a plan to go with. So I turned my own way and made for a large rock. I clambered onto the top of it and sat down, facing the mirth of a large, flat rock that loomed up over my head. The city couldn't have been far from where we were now. It was just after noon about now, maybe even a little earlier. Jason would be departing with the Argonauts by this afternoon or tomorrow at least, well that was what Odie said anyway. At least I would get to see something interesting happen while I was here.

I heard footsteps approaching me and I didn't have to turn around to know who it was. "Jay?" asked Odie. "What are you doing?"

I knew I must have looked ridiculous just sitting there facing a rock with my chin resting on my hands. "Just admiring the view." I said smiling a little and turning to face him. His eyes looked a lot smaller without his glasses to magnify them.

"Ha ha" he said sarcastically and climbed up next to me. "You know, you act as if you've never seen a rock before." He grinned when I made a face at him. "Okay, Jay, so what's the plan?"

There was the question I'd been dreading. I decided just to let my words out in a rush. "I guess I thought we could just go around and, you know, question people. See if they know anything about a beautiful redhead that came here from the future." I froze, my words had made me flush and Odie was shaking as he tried not to laugh at me. "What?" I demanded.

He stared at me with a huge grin on his face. "You don't have to hide it anymore, you know."

"Hide what?"

"The fact that you like her." He said it like it was supposed to be obvious. "It's not like we didn't see you two together on the beach, we were all there, remember?" he straightened up as he spoke. "Besides, it's not like we didn't notice before anyway."

I winced at my own lack of subtlety. "Was it really that obvious?"

Odie gave me a knowing look. "You know, you shouldn't always just try to do what's best for the team. You need to do what's good for you too."

"Let me know when you figure out what that is then." I looked back up at the rock.

Odie sighed. "So where should we start then?" I looked at him. "With the questioning, I mean." He held his hands up in a peaceful gesture. "Should we start down here by the village or go find the city?"

I shrugged slightly. "People down by the docks are a lot friendlier than people in the city. They'd probably be more willing to take us in for the night." Odie nodded and motioned to get down. "Odie?" he turned to me. "We have a problem."

He raised his eyebrow, puzzled. "What?"

"None of us speak Greek."

…

Odie had motioned for all of us to stand around the rock where he had been sitting earlier. He stood on top of it in full lecture mode. He looked around us in earnest, making sure to get all of our attention. "As Jay mentioned to me earlier, none of us can speak Greek. Especially Ancient Greek." He looked at me with a smug smile. "So it's a good thing I already planned ahead."

Neil yawned theatrically, "Get on with it already."

Odie shot him a look but ignored his outburst. "This," he held up a plastic syringe with a big needle on the front that he'd taken out of his satchel, "is gold dust from a universal translator I found in Hermes' closet."

"Three guesses what he was doing in there." Archie whispered to Herry. Herry sniggered and clamped his hand over his mouth so as to not laugh out loud.

Odie cleared his throat at them. "Nevertheless, if I inject this right between your jaw line and ear canal, then I'm pretty sure it'll be close enough to your pharynx so that you can speak fluently, and still hear what people tell you. It'll be rerouted, of course, so that you still think you hear English." He looked proud of himself. "So," he scanned our faces, "any volunteers?"

Neil raised his hand and stepped forward, still with the same bored expression as before. Odie jumped down from his rock and positioned the needle just under jaw and ear lobe. He threatened Neil with puncturing his Carotid Artery more than three times if he didn't stand still. It was eventually over and Neil walked away with a thin trickle of blood flowing down the side of his neck. Odie replaced the sharp needle with another one and beckoned Atlanta forward. She obeyed and the same procedure was carried out, along with the threats as well. Next went Archie, then Herry – though he didn't much appreciate sharp needles – and then it was my turn. I obediently sidled up to the rock and Odie took the last syringe out of his bag and plunged it into my neck, it prickled a bit for a few seconds and then it numbed out.

Odie looked satisfied with himself. Then I had a thought. "Odie, what about you?"

He shrugged, "I got mine back at home. Did you really think I was going to let any of you stick a needle in my neck?" he smiled. "Besides, how else could I test it anyway? Hermes can speak Greek so I just had him spout a few lines for me."

I grimaced as he put the last few syringes on the ground and began stomping on them so as to break them beyond use. "You know, Odie, you shouldn't be using yourself as a guinea pig."

He looked at me, a passive expression spreading over his features. "Why not?" he raised an eyebrow, "Am I supposed to let you guys take all the risks? I may not be super strong or fast or have a good aim, but I know I'm not a warrior. You can do what you want during a fight, Jay, but the chemistry lab is my battle field." He said the words as if stating a fact. His face softened, and he smiled lightly. "Besides, you guys need all the help you can get."

I was taken aback as he walked off. For a little guy he sure had a lot of spunk, and he was right after all. We wouldn't be anywhere without him.

None of the others seemed to notice Odie's little speech as they were all too occupied listening to Herry, who claimed to be fluent in Pig Latin. No doubt he was just trying to make them laugh. I cleared my throat loudly and called them all forward so that we could start making our way towards the village. The smell of the sea was strong because of the strong breeze blowing against us. Thickets and small shrubs would pop up every now and again, allowing the vegetation to get denser as we got closer to the ocean.

Atlanta was furiously trying to hold down her tunic in the strong wind. I guess it paid off to be a boy and own a pair of boxers. I smiled inwardly. Archie and Herry were having an I-spy tournament… though there wasn't really much to see. Neil and Odie kept to themselves, only chuckling or frowning every time Archie got the wrong answer to whatever Herry had spotted. Pretty soon the game ended with Archie in a huff and Herry chortling away. The sun hadn't moved much since we'd arrived, so it was probably only about one or two in the afternoon.

As soon as we reached the village I split us up into groups to cover more ground, it wasn't a very big village but we would get the job done faster. Archie and Herry went east, Atlanta and Odie went west and Neil and I headed south. There were taverns and houses and weird little shops all around us, but no one seemed to pay us much attention as we walked by. I guess we blended in better than I thought we would.

Everywhere we went I could hear people gossiping about the rightful king arriving and having to go out and find the Golden Fleece to claim the throne. I knew immediately they were talking about Jason. I didn't pay much attention until someone said he'd be departing from these docks this afternoon. No wonder they were so excited.

So far though, no one knew anything about Theresa. Neil and I had gone around most of the way and asked people about a young redheaded girl, they didn't even seem to care and most people snorted at the thought of red hair. I wasn't even sure how old Theresa would be anyway. Cronus could have dumped her here when she was still only six years old.

Neil seemed to be getting irritated at having to walk so far without resting so we sat down beside some stall selling some kind of vegetable that looked very inedible.

The guy from the stall looked up at me and gave me the once-over. He was chubby and balding with a big fluffy moustache. "You boys signing up for the crew?" he asked not unkindly.

"What do you mean?" I asked, almost bored with having to wait for Neil.

"The Argo. Boys have been running down to the docks all morning." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You look good and strong for a sailor."

I looked at him full on now, he looked oddly familiar. Maybe I'd seen him in town or something; there were a lot of butchers in New Olympia that looked a lot like him. "I didn't know that. Where are they signing up?"

He pointed. "Down by the harbour. Though you'd have to hurry, there are a lot of boys waiting in line too. They'll only accept fifty, maybe even less now."

"Thank you." I stood up, almost ready to drag Neil with me down to the harbour. I paused and looked at the man. "Do you know anything about a young redheaded girl; have you seen her by any chance?"

He looked at me and put a finger to his chin. "A redhead? Funny you should say that." He looked me up and down and smiled. "There was a girl like that that came through here before noon actually."

My heart leaped, but he could have been talking about Atlanta. "Did she have long hair or short hair?" Neil looked puzzled by my question.

The man gave me a funny look, "she was about this tall." He indicated with his hand a height level with my chin, "and her hair came down here." He lowered his hand so that it was about halfway between the height he'd shown me before. That could definitely be Theresa.

"Which way did she go?" my voice rose in excitement and I tried my best to lower it.

He scratched his chin. "Down to the harbour, I think, though she didn't seem very happy when she walked past."

I frowned. "Was she upset?"

He shook his head, "She looked a bit angry really."

I thanked him and yanked Neil's arm behind me, making a fast pace down to the docks. The ground wasn't very level and started sloping down as we got closer to the ocean. Neil pulled his arm back and started rubbing his wrist. "You should really consider a manicure, Jay. You're nails are so thin and sharp they're like Odie's needle." He shuddered. I guessed he didn't like needles very much.

Suddenly, my view of the docks was obscured by a field of dark red. Atlanta had popped out from behind the corner in front of us and her hair reached high enough to get in my way, despite her height. I looked down at her and saw that her face was pink and she was panting, she'd been running. Odie reared up behind her and let his breath fall out of his mouth in a series of ferocious pants. Atlanta had already steadied her breathing.

"Come on, Odie!" she laughed. "No pain, no gain!" she turned to us. "Any luck?"

"We got a lead." I said smugly. "Down by the docks. Where are Herry and Archie?"

She shrugged, "didn't you notice them right behind you?"

I turned and saw the two of them bounding down the incline towards us. When Odie was finally able to stand again, I relayed our discovery to the others, urging everyone to get down to the docks. When we got down there, a guy with a nose similar to Archie's was sitting behind a makeshift table and looking even more bored than Neil was earlier. There was a line of small, thin boys around the same age as us filling up the space in front of his table. The man didn't seem inclined to let them onto the ship.

When he saw us approach he immediately stood up and pointed at us. "You!" he barked. "How would you like to join the crew aboard the Argo?" he smiled in the same way that a salesman would.

The line of boys moved aside, allowing us a wide birth to the table. "You four, welcome aboard!" he pointed at Archie, Herry, Neil and I.

I shook my head. "What about them?" I asked, pointing at Atlanta and Odie.

He raised his eyebrow slightly. "Too scrawny and she's a _girl_."

I shook my head again. "So what? You already have a _girl_ aboard." I said, referring to Atalanta who was supposed to have originally been aboard the Argo. "And you have tons of scrawny people around here, and he's smart enough to handle himself." I protested.

He sighed. "Rules are rules." He shook his head right back at me.

"Fine." I retorted, hoping he would take my bluff. I really needed to get onto the boat to look around. What if Theresa were on board and we couldn't get on? "Come on, guys. Let's get out of here."

We turned to leave and the man quickly moved out from behind his table. "Wait!" he called, sighing very loudly. "I've been here all day and I just need six more of you on the crew so that I can leave."

"Well, there are six of us right here." Atlanta snarled, clearly annoyed.

He took a step back. He hadn't expected her to be so fierce. He groaned and motioned towards the ramp leading up to the ship I hadn't seen earlier. "Fine. Go ahead then."

The ship was immensely crowded by flocks of young boys. A few older men scattered helter skelter among them. There was a furious chatter raging around us and I had started to believe that maybe Theresa wasn't on board after all. I looked around and saw a sprout of red hair similar to Atlanta's; it must have belonged to her ancestor, Atalanta.

Hercules, much younger and less balder than the one I knew, sat across from us, talking to a few boys. Theseus was here too, just leaning against the railing on a landing just above where we stood, looking like a model for a marble statue. So far there was no sign of Jason, though I expected him to maybe make quite an entrance when he did arrive.

Sure enough, a circle opened up in the middle of the deck, where a man stood. He looked almost like me, only with a lot more stubble and wearing some sort of armour. Atlanta shot me a worried glance but I tried to ignore her.

Jason started saying something then, making a speech and blah, blah, blah. He was just trying to hype up the crew. I wasn't intent on focusing on him much; a familiar surge of light red hair had caught my eye while moving through the crowds. As soon as she came to a standstill on the edge of the small ring of people, I knew exactly who it was. Her soft face and green eyes couldn't have been mistaken for anyone else.

Theresa.

She stepped forward out of the crowd and towards Jason, putting a light hand on his shoulder. He jerked out of introducing Hercules, Atalanta, Theseus and some other older people to the crew and turned to her. Somehow her eyes had found mine, but they were blank and unrecognising. Jason turned to where the six of us stood and smiled, still turning slightly, as if trying to include everyone in what he was about to say next.

"And this," he took Theresa's hand in his, "is the young lady who will be accompanying us on our quest. Lady Theresa," My heart jumped. It was her. I smiled broadly, unprepared for what he was about to say next, the smile still burning on my lips as the others turned to look at me just after Jason said the words that ripped me inside out. "My fiancée."

…

_**Do not pelt me with stones! It was bound to happen, right? Even if he is like Jay's great-great-great-great-great-great-grandpa! Still, you never know. Anyway, please leave a review or a smiley face or something for me to know you like it and want the show to go on! Thanks a million!**_

_**P.S. If you feel my updates are taking a bit too long feel free to throw me a PM to get me to type up the next chapter! I promise I'll get to reviewing more stories soon!**_

_**~Toymaker**_


	9. Chapter 8: The Isle of Lemnos Part 1

_**Hey Peoples! Yes, I know, I finally stuck my butt to my chair and got on with the typing. Anyway, a big thank you goes out to my reviewers from my last chapter: HoneyGoddess57, classofthetitans711, and mystery! Thanks for all the kind words!**_

_**This chapter is going to be rated T for a whole lot of suggestiveness, but don't fret! There will be no graphic content whatsoever, only a few tense ideas.**_

_**On with the show!**_

…

_**Chapter 8**_

_**The Isle of Lemnos**_

_**Part One**_

Nightfall, the world was completely different here. After all the recent happenings I've been wondering whether or not this could still be the same world as before. Time was younger and knowledge among the crewmen was scarce. Out of every person aboard the ship other than Odie, intelligent conversation was a farfetched fantasy. Thus I resorted to giving everyone the silent treatment and keeping to myself for as long as I could stand to be alone.

Working conditions aboard the Argo weren't bad, and I'd noticed that there were actually a lot more than fifty men on board the ship. The only thing that perturbed me was the fact that I hadn't yet found my sea legs and ended up slithering all over the deck when the weather against the waves was particularly bad.

Atlanta, Herry and Archie had taken quite a liking to their new surroundings, mostly due to the fact that they didn't have to take a shower as often as usual. Neil responded to this by sneaking a shower of deodorant or cologne all over himself and elaborately pinching his nose closed whenever someone predominantly pungent walked past him. Sometimes I wondered what else he had inside that bag of his. He seemed to have more space in his satchel than anyone else did.

Odie however, seemed to be a tad at war with himself. One minute he would be crouched in a corner and sliding across the deck while the boat rocked, and the next he would either try to climb up to the crow's nest or he would pull a _Titanic_ and pretend he could fly over the bow of the ship, all with an enormous smile pasted onto his face. Occasionally he would reach into his satchel for his laptop and then catch himself before anyone would notice. I couldn't tell whether it was just seasickness or homesickness that was getting to him, but it was thoroughly disturbing to see him act so out of his character.

We'd been at sea for nearly three days and I'd hardly caught a glimmer of the captain, much less Theresa. The only thing that kept winding its way into my line of sight was the sea: endless and Mediterranean blue. It was really starting to get on my nerves. How did people keep this up? There's no way I'd be able to stay sane on a boat for more than a few hours at a time, no matter how much I loved sailing.

Another thing that happened to bug me was that I wasn't in control of anything. I didn't know what was going on around me and it didn't look like anyone else did either. I wasn't exactly a fan of waiting in the wings, now I knew what my team felt like when I took charge of a situation, it was so frustrating not to have sufficient information.

I sighed, this wasn't helping me to strategise. Sure, we found Theresa, but what now? We can't just grab her and run, there's nowhere to run to. Also, I missed her; she's always been valuable to me in the most… sentimental way. She was cool and bubbly and funny and smart and, and, and… she'd find a way to calm me down, she always did. But we weren't allowed to go near her, she was Jason's _fiancée_. No communication allowed unless she started the conversation. She didn't even know my name, why would she even bother talking to me? Unless I got her to talk to Atlanta, she was a girl too. Maybe they could connect with each other and be best friends the way they were before?

"Hey!" a cry came from behind me.

I turned and faced Herry who stood a few feet away from me, his arms folded and his expression sour.

"Are you just going to sit there and mope in a bubble of solitude or are you going to help row the boat?" he came and stood next to me so that I had to look up at him. I was sitting on the edge of the boat, overlooking the sea and the giant wooden oars being manoeuvred just beneath me. I was just getting more annoyed by looking at them; everyone had to have a turn to row the boat. That's what Jason considered 'teamwork'.

"Is it my shift already?" I asked, not really listening for the answer. Herry only looked at me accusingly and we were silent for a few minutes, just staring solemnly at each other. "I'm gonna stay in my bubble." I finally said, turning to look over at the ocean again.

Herry groaned, "Oh, come on, Jay! You could at least _try_ and help out."

"I _am_ helping," I retorted, "I'm staying out of everybody's way."

Herry didn't look impressed, but his expression softened as he sat down next to me. "Seriously, what's really getting at you? And don't tell me it's because of Neil's reeking cologne."

I almost smiled, almost. "What does it matter anyway? What am I even supposed to do?"

Herry started listing things using his fingers. "One, you're the leader, which means you need to make all the plans. Two, you're the only one who really knows how to get on Theresa's good side _and_ you're the descendant of the ship's captain. And three, you _need_ a shower."

I looked at him with disdain, ignoring his last comment, and shrugged. "Yeah, sure, like Theresa's going to talk to me."

Herry gave me a knowing look, "Well the way you two carry on back home, I'm sure she'll be running into your arms by the end of the day." He knit his fingers together and puckered his lips while mockingly batting his eyelashes at me.

"Ha, ha very funny," I shoved his shoulder and looked back out at the sea while he chortled away next to me.

"It can't be that hard to come up with a plan, can it? I mean, I'm sure one of us can help you out."

"Feel free." I shrugged again.

"Okay, so… happens next in the story? Are we supposed to go somewhere specific or battle a sea-monster or something?"

I tried my best to think back to the story of Jason and the Argonauts. Myths like these always ended up being like bed-time stories to me, and Jason's story had always been one of my favourites. "Well, we're supposed to be porting at some island within the next few hours or so." I sat up straight and turned to Herry while he thought.

I hated the fact that almost everyone made fun of him because of his one track mind, but he wasn't stupid, nor was he slow, he just had a lack of focus sometimes. He was really quite intelligent when he paid attention to what was happening, and he was really good at making split-second-decisions, especially when fighting. He was just more of a hands-on kind of guy; he wasn't the type to think ahead. Plus, he was one of the easiest people to get along with.

"Okay, and what's supposed to happen when we get there?" he asked.

"It's this whole island full of Amazon women." My hands started talking with me while I explained. "They started neglecting their worship of Aphrodite and she punished them by making them smell so bad, all of their husbands left them; so they killed off all of the men on the island because of their anger towards Aphrodite. In the story the Argonauts, you know…" I couldn't think of a loose enough euphemism, "Help them repopulate the island."

Herry's cheeks grew redder and redder as the realization of what I meant dawned on him. "Okay, ew." He shuddered, "Does everyone on board the ship go and…" he trailed off, eyes inquisitive.

I couldn't help but smile at his embarrassment, "No, Hercules and some of his crowd stay behind, Atalanta too."

Herry was quiet while I stared ahead of me, the water lapped against the boat in time with my breathing. My feet were dangling over the edge, but not dangerously, just enough for me to feel the sea-spray scatter over my toes. Herry's breathing stopped suddenly with a loud gasp and I looked over at him. His eyes were open wide, almost to the size of saucers. He looked at me and swallowed hard. "Jay…" he struggled for words.

"Yeah?" I couldn't tell whether I was worried or curious about what he was going to say next.

"Does Jason also… you know… with the Amazons?"

I was puzzled, "Yeah, he's supposed to have fathered twins with the queen or something." This conversation was getting a little too awkward for me, but that didn't stop him from pressing his point further.

"But now, he's with Theresa." Herry said. I couldn't help but wince at the way he seemed to just be comfortable with saying it boldly like that.

"Yeah, and?"

"Does Jason have any other kids after the twins?"

I was completely befuddled as to where this was going and tried to think back. "Uhm, he had kids with Medea, but she ended up killing them when they were still little or something like that." I could hear the confusion in my own voice.

Herry pushed on more, "So then there were only the twins in the end?"

"I guess so, why are you even asking me this, Herry?"

"Well, you are Jason's descendant aren't you? If he's with Theresa now," I winced again, "then I doubt he'd start going off with some Amazon queen just for a good time, he and Theresa have always been together since we first saw them."

My eyebrows furrowed slightly, then I caught on and my eyes shot open wide. Jason wouldn't cheat on Theresa if he was just about to get married to her, so he wouldn't go off gallivanting with some lady that lived on an island. Meaning he wouldn't have any sons with her, no sons meant no more descendants; and I would never have existed as a result.

…

The call from the crow's nest came two hours later, land was in sight. Even from my position beneath the deck, and through the sounds of creaking oars; my own strained, heavy breathing; the grunts from all the crewmen crowding the space and Herry's roaring stomach beside me; I could clearly depict the excitement in the caller's rickety voice as he said the words that only ensured me of my approaching doom.

Cheers erupted all around us, many of the men immediately getting to their feet and trampling up the wobbly ladder, some pushing others out of the way and most ending up on the floor. This was all to get a view of a speck of land miles and miles away. In a sense, I pitied them. They were out here looking for adventure, they all wanted to be war heroes, to be remembered; but none of them seemed like they'd be able to bear it, not to me at least.

Look at me. I didn't want to be a war hero, this isn't even the real me. Sometimes I wonder if I've gone crazy at all, I never asked to be faced with life or death, and if I don't do something quickly I'm only going to end up with one option, not having chosen at all. What made destiny decide to pick me? I can't even do laundry, let alone fight mythical beings. I was willing to give this up to any one of those yahoos battling it out by the ladder. They wanted this, I didn't.

Fate could be unnervingly vindictive.

Herry nudged at my ribs with his elbow, trying to discreetly grab a hold of my attention. I looked up at him with a bored expression. He smiled and leaned over to me, whispering just loud enough for me to hear him, and soft enough so that Archie, who was sitting behind us, wouldn't be able to hear at all.

There were only a few men who stayed in their seats, not wanting to get involved in the calamity up front. One of them seemed a little out of place though, as if he were uncomfortable in his surroundings. He sat still and stared ahead, tense lines in his forehead highlighted by sheens of fresh sweat from the laborious work of rowing the boat. Looking at him, I experienced the same sense of familiar unease that I'd felt in the market in the village only three days before.

"I have an idea." Herry said, pulling my attention away from the other man. Strange how Herry was the one coming up with ideas while I was just sitting there with a lump in my throat and thinking negative thoughts about nonsense. Herry continued, "The way I see it, we have two options."

I looked at him sceptically, "And they would be…?"

"We grab Theresa and get Odie to take us back to New Olympia with his device thingy." He said it in a similar tone to one Ares would use when declaring war on a brick for defying him by jamming his path, I've seen it happen. In other words, he said it quite forcefully.

"Too many complications," I paused and considered it well enough though, it was a very tempting idea. "What's the other option?"

His smile grew wider. "We want Jason to get off the boat and get busy with some Amazon queen, right?"

"Correct." The conversation was getting awkward again and I could feel the blood begin to move up into my face.

"And we carry knowledge from the twenty-first century with us, right?" Herry tapped the side of his head, like he could display his intelligence with just that one gesture.

"Where exactly are you going with this, Herry?"

"Think about it: from our time, the only sure fire way of getting someone to do something they don't want to do, without them really remembering is…?" he prompted.

"Knocking them out and hoping they wake up with amnesia?" I asked, trying to take this seriously. Herry gave me a stern look. "Okay, fine. I give up. What is it?"

"Alcohol."

I almost burst out laughing. How on earth could he suggest it? Alcohol? We'd only be able to get some if we raided the storage cabin, and it's practically impossible to get in there without any authority. Though, the more I thought about it, it actually did make sense. There was enough in the cabin to get Jason inebriated enough to get off the boat and get on with his business, however much I hated thinking about my great-great-great-great-etc. grandfather getting up to these kinds of things. I shuddered at the thought, but I knew it had to be done, and that was the best idea on the table at the moment.

"Okay." I said, letting all of my practicalities fall off of my shoulder with just that one word. "So how exactly are we supposed to pull this off?"

Just then, Archie poked his head between us and spluttered, "What are you guys whispering about so intensely?"

I looked at Herry and he smiled back at me, winking conspiratorially. He turned to Archie and spoke in a low voice so that the sentry in the front of the room couldn't hear us. "Hey, Archie, what do you say to a little prank on the ship's captain?"

Archie grinned, "I'm in! What are we going to do?"

…

The food store was a lot like a bank safe. Well, it was guarded in the same way. That's what you get when you have almost a hundred men, most of them teenagers, aboard one ship. Appetite was the foe of many, and if we weren't careful, it would result in our own demise; but enough about food!

As I watched, Herry and Archie moved toward the small cabin housing the boat's food supplies. It was already late in the afternoon and the shadows elongated near every wooden corner and frame. The two of them were skilfully hidden within the dusky dimness, edging their way towards the two crewmen guarding the door of their objective target.

I was watching from a safe distance. My only part in this plan was to allow the two of them to get to the wine-store, and then go find Jason and engage him in conversation long enough for the two of them to incapacitate him and drown him in their own alcoholic concoctions. Ethically I didn't approve, but these were desperate times and I was willing to let this one slide for the time being. Not to be melodramatic, but it was my only chance at survival.

My only problem was actually talking to him. What was I supposed to say to him? I didn't actually _know_ anything about him, apart from what I'd heard in the stories my mother used to relay to me. I've always thought of him as an admirable character, until I saw him with Theresa.

I wasn't exactly jealous, but at the time I was completely certain I'd dreamt all of this up and there was no time travelling at all. It was just utterly unfathomable that my ancestor and Theresa were together. I was frustrated, disappointed even. I'd pinched myself over a hundred times just to make sure I _wasn't_ dreaming; but what Herry had said was true, the two of them were absolutely indissoluble.

Herry moved forward slowly, Archie flanking close behind him. Herry peered over his shoulder and gave Archie the signal to move ahead of him. Archie took a deep breath, sucking in his stomach very dramatically, and walking out from behind the corner of the smaller cabin where Herry still hid. Archie quickly changed his character completely, replacing his former self with the type of person he was at home: a hungry teenager nagging everyone for food. Normally, I would have been quite grave at this point, but I just couldn't take Archie seriously in a toga.

Whilst Archie was occupied entertaining the guards with his suave acting skills, Herry slowly emerged from his hiding place. He was a burly boy, that was for sure, but the only sounds he made were the scuffing of his sandals against the polished wood of the Argo. The two men were none impressed by Archie's display, but he had somehow managed to position himself in front of them in such a way that they now had their backs towards the intimidating figure that was Herry.

One of them shook his head fervently at Archie's degrading pleads for rations, a zealous shout of 'no!' escaping him before Herry's muscles hung over him. The guards barely had a chance to gasp before Herry's giant fingers knotted in their hair, each fist grasping thick tufts of their greasy locks. He lifted them up gingerly and smacked the sides of their heads together. He didn't do it hard enough to incur any damage, but he'd used just enough force to knock them out for several hours.

Archie dealt him a high-five and the two of them disappeared behind the door of the cabin withholding the medium we required. Its hinges squeaked slightly when the door swung closed behind them. I knew that there were steps just beyond the ladder, letting the storage space stretch further beneath the deck. So far so good though, and no one was around here to see anything.

The sun was an hour away from dwindling down into the horizon, and the sea was turning into a light shade of navy blue. The island still only seemed like a spit of land to me, though I knew it was roughly just over ten miles away. We would reach it after nightfall if the ship continued at this speed and if the weather stayed the same as it was now.

My heart was thumping heavily in my chest, I didn't know if this would succeed, and I was still a little put off by my part of the scheme. Jason wasn't an idiot, and what if he saw right through me? What if this plan didn't work? Would I still be here in the morning? Moments like these scared me half to death, with the consequences of the outcome pushing me the rest of the way.

I swallowed hard when Herry kicked the door wide open, hauling three small barrels of a sour, fruity scented liquid: two in his arms and another that he kicked ahead of him. He was followed by Archie, who struggled to carry one more of the same barrels. I was too afraid to ask what was in them and waved them both over to me.

"You think this is enough?" I asked sarcastically.

Herry smiled, "We could always get more."

Archie put down his barrel in front of me and grunted with all of the effort it took. He made a show of snapping his spine into place, several clacks emulating from his back as he did so. I still found it strange how the weight of the barrels had absolutely no effect on Herry at all.

Archie spoke up, "Okay, Jay, you're up next."

Herry went back to the door of the storage space and dragged both guards, one in each hand, back into the dark room. When he came back up he shut the door tightly behind him.

I took a breath, "Okay, you guys get to fabricating some sort of hybrid drink that'll have Jason incapacitated while I go find him and try to have some sort of conversation with him. I'll walk by here in the next few minutes. Just be ready."

"What are you guys doing?" Atlanta's voice came from behind me. I groaned inwardly and turned around to face her. She stood with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.

Archie retaliated first, waving a hand at her, "Atlanta, get out of here."

She just stared at him, "Ya, right. What are you doing with those barrels? I thought we were supposed to be keeping a low profile."

Archie sidled up to her, "Look, Atlanta, this has nothing to do with you. So could you please just leave us alone for a second?"

"And if I say no?" she challenged.

Archie stood right in front of her, bending his head forward so that his eyes could meet her own. "Then I'm going to have to remove you from the premises."

Atlanta cracked a smile and then burst out laughing, clutching her stomach as she doubled over in a fit of giggles. "You and what army, Mr. High and Mighty?"

Archie's face was impassive when he looked over at Herry. Herry immediately stepped forward and grabbed Atlanta firmly by the waist, lifting her into the air.

Her laughter ceased immediately and she started struggling in Herry's grasp, breathing her words in frustration, "Herry, put me down!"

"Sorry, Atlanta." I said, opening the door to the food store, "But this is for your own good."

"What are you-" she stopped mid-sentence.

Herry shoved her lightly into the cabin and I quickly shut the door, letting the steel hinge clamp tightly shut so that she couldn't get out again without someone opening the door from the outside. At least she wouldn't get in the way now.

…

_**Okay, another chapter done! I apologise profusely for the long wait! Thanks to everyone who sent me a PM and got me moving, encouragement is always considered an asset! Please leave a review on your way out! The next update will hopefully be finished soon.**_

_**Also, I'd like you guys to check out my new story **_**Mortal Minds **_**if you haven't already, and tell me what you think!**_

_**Thanks again.**_

_**~Toymaker.**_


	10. Chapter 9: The Isle of Lemnos Part 2

_**Yay, another update, and it's about time too!**_

_**Hello and welcome to the show!**_

_**First of all, a very big Thank you and a gigantic hug goes out to classofthetitans711, supersoda, Emma, HoneyGoddess57, healme13 and AngryOlympian for reviewing my last chapter! All of the kind words really got me moving on with the story, so thanks again.**_

_**Good news for all of my avid readers: I have a new laptop! So from now on there will most probably be more updates than usual! So a big thank you to my best friend who suddenly decided that she wants to give me her laptop! Yay it's happy dance time!**_

_**Quick shout out for AngryOlympian's story **_**The Only Son**_** I started reading it recently and I just can't get enough! Absolutely brilliant!**_

_**Please note that this chapter will also be rated T for circumstances relating to the previous chapter. Still without ANY graphic content!**_

_**Moving on…**_

…

_**The Isle of Lemnos**_

_**Part Two**_

The salty ocean wind wafted harshly over the streamlined hull of the ship and into the eyes of any man wandering the decks after the sun had set. Along with the biting chill came an acrid, choking stench that would make the sun glad it had already taken flight beyond the horizon. The only way to describe the smell would be to say that Archie's flimsy running shoes had a much more inviting scent.

Despite the putrid odour, many of the crewmen came running excitedly up to the bow of the vessel to get a view of the first spit of land we were to reconnoitre. Admittedly, there wasn't much to see. The air around us was enshrouded in a cerulean carpet of night, dotted with effervescently twinkling stars. Everything was dark, but the shadowy beachfront of the tiny island glistened and enveloped the wooden beams of the ship's cavity, engraving scraps of thin, bleached sand into the timber.

I was leaning against a stark pole adjacent to the door of the captain's quarters, raking in the scenes around me. How could someone get so excited about docking at a smelly island? Some things just had me completely bewildered. There are so many practicalities that you wouldn't think to consider when listening to a story.

Thoughtful about what was going to happen soon, I had to tell myself over and over that this was a good thing; that I wouldn't need to give it a second thought when it was over, and that I would be able to live with the mental scarring and chaos of the result. No matter how many times I tried though, I knew I wasn't going to be able to convince myself of anything other than being extremely hungry. I was desperately aching for some of Athena's food, at least that would somewhat loosen the welt in my stomach. But there was absolutely no way that I could eat anything until I'd seen this through.

I sighed. I'd been waiting out here for almost forty minutes for Jason to emerge from his cabin. Herry and Archie were probably bored out of their skulls waiting for me; but I was willing to wait as long as I needed to get this over with and out of my mind.

I wondered what Theresa had been doing that whole time. I knew that she and Jason had separate cabins but that didn't stop my mind from jumping to conclusions at the rate of a rabid squirrel. She was probably looking at him the way she had looked at me almost a week ago, with that tired, sad smile she kept in her eyes. Was she anything like the Theresa I knew? Or did she just look the same, and have dimples in exactly the right corners of her cheeks?

The problem wasn't that I couldn't speak to her; it was just that I wouldn't know _what_ to say. Asking her about any new movies or books was definitely out of the equation. Did she even remember anything from before she came here? She must've known something was up when she suddenly arrived in Ancient Greece. It made me anxious to think that Cronus might've done something to her. What if she didn't remember anything at all? It would be impossible to talk to her then.

I jumped suddenly and ducked behind the post, hiding from the pool of light streaming through the cabin's entrance. The door to the cabin was slowly creaking open and a renewed-looking Jason stepped out into the night air, squinting into the darkness to let his eyes adjust better. If you'd been out here long enough, the stars had shed sufficient light for you to see your hand in front of your face, but that was about it.

Jason closed the door to the fiery light behind him and stepped purposefully out onto the deck, breathing heavily as he strode forward. I'd expect he detected the smell before quickly cupping his hand in front of his nose and mouth, choking out as much of the tainted air as he possibly could. He continued forward, still cupping his hand over his face, and I trailed after him as a meeting of all the curious young crewmen assembled around the young hero. They, too, were holding their hands over their faces in an attempt to mask the stench, or at least not to inhale too much of it, but by the looks of it, even the stink wasn't going to extinguish the excited flames in their eyes.

At least the smell had concealed all the men's body odour, but even that seemed more tempting a scent than the reek that was gliding over the ship.

Hercules and Theseus had joined the small congregation, still looking as if they were posing for a marble sculpture. I guess they just had the hair for it. The crowd then grew more rapidly as a few of the other crewmen had spotted the flock surrounding Jason. Soon Atalanta appeared and Jason nodded at her out of courtesy as he began his pep talk, and I couldn't help but wonder where Theresa was.

"This is a big achievement for us, men… and lady." He quickly added, looking at Atalanta. "We have reached our first landmark, and I am confident that new obstacles shall be met and overcome." He paused and looked seriously around at the swarm of faces, meeting everyone's eyes. He certainly didn't beat around the bush. "Scouts will be assembled and we will set out as word of safety reaches us. Though I must warn you," he paused again, looking serious and egregiously melodramatic. I had to hold back the reflex to laugh at him. "Enemies may be lurking in the midst of this island. I would wish no harm upon any of you, though you must all be wary of any presence, good or bad."

He carried on in this histrionic manner for another half hour, with all of the crewmen's eyes on him, taking in every syllable he uttered with the utmost veneration. I stopped listening, what was happening was of no concern of mine and his consulting tone of voice was starting to annoy me. I saw Herry a few paces away, looking past all the faces in search of something. Then his eyes met mine and he quickly made his way over to me, gently shoving a few people out of the way. They were so consumed in Jason's words that they didn't even seem to notice our hushed conversation taking place behind their backs.

Herry started, "What's taking you so long? We've been waiting for over an hour. Archie even threatened to jump overboard."

"Why would he be daft enough to do something like that?"

"Because he was over-_bored!_"

I stared at Herry with an amused look before getting serious again. "Well, I can't exactly knock the guy out when he's standing in the middle of a crowd. That would be generally frowned upon in some communities, you know."

Herry gave me a stern look, "So what do we do now?"

I sighed, "We'll wait until he's alone, when everyone else is off the ship and gallivanting around the island like lost dogs."

"How long do you think that's going to take then? We can't wait around forever, you know."

I rubbed the back of my head, "Yeah, I figured. They'll be sending scouts to see if there's any immediate danger, and I guess they'll be back within about an hour. I'd say the latest we'd be able to get him alone would be before dawn; which, judging by the setting of the moon, is just a few hours away."

The assembly of men soon evaporated and Jason called a few younger men to his side, walking with them to discuss his plans further as they ambled out of earshot. Herry grumbled and nodded with a sigh, "Okay. Archie and I will be waiting near the ramp when you're ready."

I nodded in return, "I'll bring him around there and then leave him to you guys. Maybe you guys could play another game of _I Spy_ while you wait." I taunted. "You still remember what to do, right?"

Herry smiled, "Knock him out and get him drunk." His smile was replaced with a frown, "Then we get him together with that Amazonian queen of his and wait until she's had her way with him." He looked at me full on, his eyes twinkling in the silhouette of his bulk. "I don't like it, Jay; but it's for you. So I'll do it."

"Thanks, man." That was all I could say at the moment, I was too focused on other things to allow a sentimental moment.

He nodded solemnly and turned to leave. His step paused and he turned to me again, "I've already filled Archie in on everything. He's cool with it."

I smiled at him as he left, and then had a thought. "Herry!" I called, "what about Atlanta?"

I heard him chuckle as he walked away, "Well it's not like she's going to starve to death."

…

I was pacing now, quite sure that I was carving a rut into the planks beneath me. The scouts had been gone for more than an hour before they'd finally come back to proclaim that there had been no disturbances detected and it was safe to explore the island. Jason had been overjoyed and parties were immediately assembled to set out at dawn. The main aim was to gather anything that could be considered edible or useful for the rest of our journey.

When the sun radiated from behind the horizon, the boat could be considered as a ghost town, save for a select few who had chosen to stay aboard. Hercules was content just to remain and fish from the comfort of the ship; Atalanta refused, saying that nothing fit for human consumption could manage to grow within the foul stench that so encompassed the tiny island; Odie and Neil had decided to stay as well, for reasons unknown to myself. Miraculously, Theresa was to stay aboard as well, by order of Jason, which gave me reason enough to remain as well.

I continued pacing though, Jason wasn't alone yet, and I needed to fall into some sort of conversation with him to lure him into my trap while I still could. The ship emptied slowly as I walked around. I came to a stop in front of the door to Theresa's cabin. She would be in there right now, trying to keep herself entertained, being bored and twisting her hair around her finger as she lost herself in thought. Maybe she wasn't even in there at all; maybe she was out on the deck somewhere, watching the waves as they lapped against the ship's sides. I couldn't really imagine her being happy about staying behind here because she _had_ to.

I sighed. I missed her smile so much; it had always been the one thing to encourage me to keep going, to get through this abominable fallacy called fate. Even her presence eased my strain. I couldn't wait until the day I could have her back with me, I knew I wouldn't ever let her out of my sight, but she would probably hate that, too.

The door to the cabin eased open, and Jason stepped out, still in a light conversation with Theresa. She whispered something to him that sounded like "try not to get eaten alive". He chuckled in response and kissed her hand as a farewell.

"Until we meet again," he said, gently closing her door behind him.

I cleared my throat to swallow my anger and embarrassment at witnessing their private moment, and just pretended to keep walking when Jason turned to me and paused in his tracks. I curved my head ever so slightly to get a view of him in my peripheral vision and I could feel my hair as it slid against my cheek, a few strands semi-blocking my view of him. He had his head cocked to the side, eyeing me curiously. I took this as invitation enough to turn around and face him with a blank, expectant expression.

We just stood like that, staring at each other until the first sliver of sun inched over the horizon and illuminated the sky above us. Our likeness must have baffled him in the same way it had done to me the first time I'd met him in the Elysian Fields. The only real difference in our appearances was his height and stubble. In a strange way, I still couldn't believe what had taken place in such a short space of time, it just seemed too unreal to even comprehend.

I knew I had to work quickly so I cleared my throat again, assuming a business-like air as I've seen my father do when he was speaking to someone on the phone. For a fleeting moment, my imagination drifted off and I wondered what my parents would be doing now, whether they were missing me, and if I would ever get the chance to introduce them to Theresa. I swallowed hard, erasing my thoughts and putting all of my energy into keeping an open expression.

Jason did something that I didn't at all expect him to do, he smiled; and I couldn't help myself, so I smiled back.

…

Jason laughed as we walked across the deck together. I hated to admit it, but he was a pretty cool guy, like the older brother I'd always dreamed of having. We'd been talking for a half an hour, and he'd already managed to tell me everything he planned to accomplish; and, even though I already knew, why he was searching for the Golden Fleece in the first place. The way he told his stories was fascinating too, as if he just had some kind of gift with making his backstory sound interesting.

"So, we've been speaking for a while already," he said casually, "and I still don't know your name." Jason smiled down at me in an encouraging gesture.

I stammered, unsure if I should give him my real name or just make something up and hope he doesn't remember me; but I kind of enjoyed the idea of having my ancestor know me while he trekked the ocean. "It's Jay." I said finally, with just a little bit of reluctance.

He put his finger to his lips in thought and smiled again. "Jay? Like the bird? That's an unusual name." He chuckled, "Do you like sailing, Jay?"

I stopped, the topic was shifting to my backstory and I wasn't in the right mood to delve that deep into my personal life. Even if Jason was family, that didn't mean that I trusted him enough, but it was a harmless question. I wouldn't worry too much unless he actually started talking about why I was here. I decided to just make something up that would explain a few things at once, making him less abject to pry any further.

"I do like sailing," I said, trying to keep up with his long strides. "I sail as much as I can, that's why I'm here."

"So you're not just here for the big adventure like the rest of the crew is?" he didn't say it harshly.

I thought for a while as we walked, "I don't think I'll ever be like any of them." I said finally.

Jason turned to me and raised his eyebrow. "Oh? Well, why do you say that?"

I tried to be as honest as I possibly could, "I suppose it's because I've already had my fair share of life-changing experiences, adding another one to the list wouldn't make much of a difference."

"I see," he replied simply. We were quiet for a moment or two, both of us collecting our thoughts, but it wasn't a type of uncomfortable silence though. Somehow I felt like we both knew much more about each other than the things we were revealing. Jason was just complex that way, somehow he just kept you guessing, never sure of exactly where you stood with him.

"Captain Jason?" the words sounded too formal in my mouth and I wished I hadn't said them, but Jason just laughed it off.

"Call me Jason. Please, I insist. Captain is a much more deserving title that I wouldn't hope to attain."

"Okay, Jason." I paused. "Uhm, I wanted to ask; do you believe you're going to find the Golden Fleece? I mean, there are so many things in your way."

He exhaled, "We don't really know that, Jay. But if there's anything I've learned from what life has thrown at me thus far, I'd say that the things standing in our way aren't necessarily the things holding us back. It's having the resolution and assurance of finding what you seek that keeps you going. If you've lost that strength of heart you started with, then you may as well have given up." He stopped and looked out at the waves. "So, Jay, to answer your question, I do believe I'll find the Golden Fleece, no matter what lies ahead of us."

I rubbed the back of my neck, what he just said was going to need some time to mull over; because it made perfect sense. I was feeling like a weasel for being so negative earlier. I had assurance in Herry and Archie; I knew they were going to come through for me, no matter how much I moped about.

Jason continued, "Now, I have a question for you, Jay." I looked up at him expectantly as he furrowed his brow in concentration. "What exactly does 'okay' mean?"

I gulped loudly and panicked, I hadn't realised what I'd said because I was supposed to be watching my words. Now I had to make something believable up to cover up my mistake. I wondered if Jason even knew what the word 'slang' meant. As soon as I opened my mouth to make up something utterly ridiculous as a response, a loud _clang _resounded about the deck and Jason had fallen face-first and motionless onto the wooden boards lining the surface of the ship.

"Saved by the bell." Herry chuckled.

I let go of the breath I didn't even know I was holding and blurted out, "Herry!"

He was twirling the tip of the warning bell from the crow's nest in one hand and whistling an unfamiliar tune. "What? You just walked by without even signalling us. So I followed you. Besides," he added, "by the look on your face it kind of looked like you could use the help. So, you're welcome."

"How did you even get that?" I asked, pointing at the bell in his hand.

"Odie can get very generous when he's filled with adrenaline. Remind me to ask him how he got into the crow's nest next time I see him." He smiled.

I frowned, momentarily perplexed by the suddenness of the operation. "Okay, whatever. Can you please just get on with it?"

Herry performed a mock salute and swung the unconscious Jason over one of his shoulders. "Yes, _sir_." He said, and then he marched away in an elaborate manner before turning a corner and sticking his tongue out at me. "Oh, and Jay?"

"Yeah?"

"I think it's about time we let Atlanta out of the closet."

I grimaced and couldn't help but wonder exactly how mad Jason and Atlanta were going to be at me. That is, if Jason could even remember any of it. I decided the best way to pass the time was not by pacing around with bated breath, but rather letting the day unravel at its own stride while I took a well-deserved morning nap – but first, I had to get Atlanta out of the food store.

As I stomped across the creaking planks, I was trying to come up with a decent excuse as to why we'd locked Atlanta up in the first place. Nothing really believable came to mind. I turned the corner and immediately went for the door and turned the latch. Before I could even muster an apology, Atlanta shot out of the small room and knocked me to the ground with her two tiny fists. She stood over me with her hands on her hips.

"Explain yourself." She ordered. A loud groan erupted from the bowels of the food store and Atlanta's expression changed to one of anxiousness. "The guards!" she whispered fiercely, "Come on!"

She pulled me up off of the floor and I yelped in surprise at her speed as she sprinted around the corner, dragging me along with her. I was struggling to keep up with her accelerated pace as she skidded across the deck. Her grip on my wrist loosened as she sped up. I knew we were far away from the guards by now, and Atlanta was just trying to burn off some of her anger before having a talk with me.

I was in no mood to explain my circumstances to Atlanta when I was this tired and hungry. As we turned a corner, I quickly pried her fingers off of me. The heels of my sandals skimmed to a stop as Atlanta sped on. A faint zoom of "Hey!" whirred past in the disrupted air Atlanta left behind.

I came to a stop and quickly ducked around the corner to try and lose Atlanta's trail. I ran straight forward and turned another corner. I looked back to see if Atlanta had followed me and suddenly smacked into something. I landed hard on my side and slid back across the deck.

"Will you please be more careful?" the familiar voice demanded.

I turned and faced the owner of the voice and gaped. Theresa lay, propped on her elbows, in front of me with an irritated expression on her face. I immediately scrambled to my feet and extended a hand down to her to help her up.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I didn't see you there." The words may have come out calmly, but I was feeling exactly the opposite. My stomach had started to tango fiercely and my heart began ricocheting like a bullet within my chest. It was like feeling nauseous on your birthday – you're overjoyed and sick at the same time.

Theresa eyes my outstretched hand but didn't take it. "It's alright. Just watch where you're going next time." Her voice sounded contained, like she was forcing herself to be polite.

I stole a glance at her appearance, she looked tired and worn out, but still breath-taking. I noticed her toga: it was a normal knee-length cut, but with two black, silk leggings jutting out just below her knee caps. Her sandals were flimsy and worn, but her eyes shone with inoperative aggression.

"Did I hurt you? What's your name?" I asked innocently, keeping my eyes on hers, trying my best to play my part well.

Her eyes glinted. "No, you didn't hurt me." She almost smiled, "My name's Theresa." She took my hand.

"Pleased to meet you, Theresa." I pulled her to her feet, our eyes never leaving each other. "My name's Jay."

…

_**Maybe the update will help you forgive the delay? How was the chapter? Did you guys like it? Let me know!**_

_**Have a lovely weekend!**_


	11. Chapter 10: Riddle Me This

_**Hello everyone! How's your week been?**_

_**Thanks to my reviewers: supersoda, classofthetitans711, HoneyGoddess57, Emma and Tinian I'att. You guys are absolutely the best!**_

_**This chapter has taken me ages... but I did my very best to try and get the Jay – Theresa moments right. I felt I needed to reward everyone's patience with a long-ish chapter so I stayed up until later to get this one finished and posted, so please do your best to excuse grammatical and spelling errors. However, feel free to comment on contextual errors… I believe that would be quite helpful.**_

_**All prayers will be greatly appreciated as I'll be starting my exams next week; which means it's time to hit the books… literally.**_

…

_**Chapter 10:**_

_**Riddle Me This**_

"Did I hurt you? What's your name?" I asked innocently, keeping my eyes on hers, trying my best to play my part well.

Her eyes glinted. "No, you didn't hurt me." She almost smiled, "My name's Theresa." She took my hand.

"Pleased to meet you, Theresa," I pulled her to her feet, our eyes never leaving each other, "my name's Jay."

She let go of my hand and tilted her head to the side. "Jay," she said, as if she were testing the sound of the words in her mouth, "are _you_ all right?"

I half-smiled, she was exactly the same. "Never better," I answered truthfully.

She gave me a cocky look and asked, "Are you going this way?" She pointed behind her, in the direction I was running earlier.

I glanced behind me; it didn't look like Atlanta had turned around to follow me yet. She was probably fuming but I guess there was enough time for me to have a little chat with Theresa. Besides, I wasn't exactly prepared to deal with Atlanta's vehemence at the present time.

"Uhm-" I was interrupted by the sound of my rumbling stomach.

"Because," she said, wearing both a sly and amused expression at my embarrassment, "I was just on my way to the kitchen. I know the cook very well, so I'm sure I could get him to whip up a little something for you." She crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at me with a knowing grin.

I tried figuring this out, was Theresa asking me out on a date? My throat felt too dry for me to answer immediately. I wanted desperately to spend some time with Theresa today… and I was seriously hungry. My heart was still flapping around like a pair of hummingbird's wings, whether it was out of nervousness or joy I couldn't tell. I wanted to shake some reason into my thoughts; Theresa was engaged to Jason, why would she want to take me out on a date?

I started feeling extremely stupid about jumping to conclusions.

I tried swallowing to moisten my throat but it just sounded as if I were choking on my own spit. Theresa raised her eyebrow in a show of impatience and I couldn't help but smile at her like an idiot. I cleared my throat again and tried answering more eloquently this time, "Is the cook even on board?"

She let out a single laugh and grabbed my wrist where Atlanta had earlier. "Well, I suppose there's only one way to find out."

Theresa started dragging me along and I had to trot to try and keep up with her forceful strides. She looked like she was having a lot of fun, laughing at my attempts to maintain her momentum. She turned a corner, still dragging me along behind her. I noticed her leggings again, they were almost completely hidden by the hem of her billowing tunic and looked incriminatingly similar to the ones Neil had shown me in that catalogue he'd looked through when he figured out where, or rather when, Theresa was. I smiled at the thought; she had unknowingly left us her own little trail of breadcrumbs. Now all we had to do was not lose our way back home and get off of this floating gingerbread house.

She suddenly stopped pulling me, letting me drop my hand to my side, and manoeuvring into a little nook in a well-weathered wall that I hadn't noticed before. We lightly descended the few steps leading down onto a recently-mopped floor that shone softly in the warm candlelight of the small, narrow room. I peered around the corner of a particularly sharp edge of wood.

We were in the galley. All of the long dining tables leading down the length of the chamber seeming forsaken and dark, even with all of the light pouring in through the checkered skylight above.

This entrance wasn't one I'd used before. Usually we'd descend multiple steps leading down from the deck and turn quite a number of corners to get here. The creaky door Theresa had steered me through was strategically hidden behind a series of thick wooden planks just higher than my own head, concealing the arch we had just sauntered through from the view of the rest of the galley; the spilling candlelight carefully masked by their height and soft angles. If you'd looked at the planks from the one of the tables in the galley, it would seem as if they were just parts of the gloomy wall that jutted out artistically behind them. Then again, the crates and barrels filled with fruit draping and bunching underneath the dark planks barred the view of the secret room just as well as they created a distraction for any overly curious souls. A hungry man's mind never really sauntered further than the promise of free food.

You really had to know your way around the ship quite well to be able to figure out exactly where you were; and days of fruitless exploration hadn't brought me that much knowledge. Maybe knowing Theresa had its advantages, I'd certainly love to hear more about the ship itself. Jason clearly wanted to keep the plank-veiled niche leading down into this narrow room a secret. The more I thought about it though, the more it looked like a corridor than an actual room.

Theresa took hold of my wrist again after we'd descended the steps and started pulling me with her through a lower arch adjacent to the tall barrier, leading me into a tiny, warmly lit kitchen. The walls were panelled with dense planks of oak, the glow from the candlelight making them seem as if they were carved from chestnut or redwood instead. The structure of the area was simple: a long wooden counter running from one side of the room left enough space for work and storage, a fire burning precariously within a hollow in a wall to the left of the room, and two large doors stationed just beyond the low, rounded arch that made up the entrance. Abundance in ingredients of all sorts was cradled restfully within large bowls made using materials ranging from porcelain to bronze.

I'd never been inside the kitchen before; the crew only got their rations in the galley twice a day. We did have three daily meals before, but some of the officials in the crew were concerned about the amount of food we'd need for the rest of the journey, so we had to be conservative. This room though, seemed to be residing within its own world, away from the rest of the ship and all of its varied worries… and filled almost to the ceiling with food!

As soon as we entered the chamber, a fresh smell of warm stew wafted up into my nostrils and I couldn't help but try to greedily inhale every steamy tendril that wound through the areas around the smoking fire. The stench drifting on the deck of the ship was enough to make me lose my appetite, but the mouth-watering aroma of whatever was cooking concealed the odour and had such a superlative appeal to my empty stomach that I was sure it was doing jumping jacks at the thought of consuming something other than empty air.

The cook himself was a beefy man, but at the same time he seemed a bit stout. He was wearing a food-stained tunic and carrying a ceramic bowl in the crook of his arm that was filled to the brim with a type of spice or herb or something else that looked quite green. He whistled a lackadaisical song that sounded upbeat and completely suited the atmosphere of the tiny room. Seeming to be within his late thirties or early forties, he had long black hair tied back with some sort of vine, laugh lines already starting to curve around his dark eyes. As soon as he saw us, his eyes lit up and an enormous grin spread across his face, the corners of his mouth somewhat highlighted by his big, bushy beard.

"Theresa!" he bellowed, and immediately set aside his bowl, sauntering over to her for a hug.

She laughed and jumped into his embrace, "Basil, I'm so glad you're still aboard! Are you still so ardently preoccupied with your stew?"

They separated and he let out a short, singular laugh, "Just as I have been for days. I was wondering when I would see you again."

Theresa smiled and went to go stand near the tub of stew over the crackling fire, inspecting its subjects with a glimpse. The pot was enormous, reminding me somewhat of a witch's cauldron from an old horror movie I'd seen once. She continued, "Well, you know… it's hard to sneak out of my cabin sometimes." She eyed the stew curiously and bent down to sniff at its contents when the cook, Basil, turned and faced me.

"And who is your friend here?" he asked. I started feeling extremely self-conscious when he gave me a quick, thorough once-over.

"Oh," said Theresa, standing up straight again and facing us, "his name is Jay." She came over to where we stood. "I was hoping you'd be able to fix up a little something for the two of us, it's already past breakfast time."

Basil's smile brightened immediately and the atmosphere in the entire room lightened again; I didn't much like the way his dark eyes had grazed over me not even a second ago; but suddenly, he seemed like the friendliest person aboard, and I couldn't help but grin and feel completely at home right here in the small kitchen.

"At your service," he said, picking up some kind of spoon and walking towards one of the two doors to the left of the room. He walked inside and there was an immediate melee of clattering sounds and a smell resembling that of a petting zoo drifting noisily into the kitchen. Basil stepped out again after about a minute, a copiousness of various ingredients in hand.

"What's in there?" I asked, letting my curiosity get the better of me. I could feel my face contorting with genuine interest – this was the most eventful thing that had happened to me since we came here.

Basil turned around and faced me, simply smiling and saying, "Fresh produce." He tossed what he held onto a food-stained wooden table and began going through the constituents whilst beginning to whistle another tune, still unfamiliar, but still light and frivolous.

Theresa sat down at another, less-stained table by the wall of the kitchen and I followed suit, leaning onto the table's surface with my elbows when I got settled on the hard chair. We both left Basil up to his meandering and stayed put in our own worlds for a moment. She looked happier now than she did before, her eyebrows less furrowed and her eyes not completely clouded over with dark thoughts. It was as if a weight had been lifted off her slim, tanned shoulders.

I was the first to break the silence, "So, how come you're allowed to get free food whenever you ask for it?"

She eyed me with a questioning look. "I didn't have to get you any food, you know;" she teased, looking down at my stomach that had made such a commotion earlier, "but it sounded like you needed it."

I smiled at her taunting air, "What I meant to say was: How do you know the cook so well?"

She leaned over the table to come closer to me, tucking her hands under her abdomen as she did so. "It's a very long story, Jay. I wouldn't want to bore you with it."

"I'm listening," I prompted, shifting closer.

She sighed and sat back again. "I will tell you, but first I have a question for _you_, Jay." I waited and she took it as a sign to continue, "Why didn't you go with the rest of the crew to the island?"

I didn't really know what to answer. Truthfully, I stayed because she did, but I couldn't tell her that. My best bet was just to try and bend the truth a bit. "And miss out on having breakfast with you? Not a chance."

She smiled, "Really, Jay?"

"Really."

She let out a small laugh and left it at that. Basil had started another tune and turned to face us with a smile as he did his job. Theresa's head was leaning on her hand as followed the cook with her eyes, watching Basil's back as he turned to attend the fire and add various other elements into his boiling concoction.

I cleared my throat and she turned her eyes back to me, her head still resting on her hand. "So, what was that long story you were going to tell me?" I asked.

Theresa sat up straight and the intensity of her eyes hit me full on. "You asked why I knew Basil so well," she said. "Well, it isn't really such a long story. It just has a bit of a… complicated background."

Now I was getting interested. "Go on?"

She sighed and Basil plonked down two bowls of what looked like scrambled eggs covered with freshly cut rosemary. I instantly dug in, earning me two amused looks; but I didn't care, I could feel my tongue relishing and savouring the taste of fresh food, and my stomach was simply aching in anticipation of digesting it.

Basil chuckled and patted me on the back hard enough that I almost spat out what was in my mouth, "I see I'm going to be spending more time in the kitchen with you around." He laughed again and exited through the door next to the 'fresh produce' one, saying that he needed to take a nap before the rest of the crew came back.

I knew I must've looked ridiculous nodding at him in response with the amount of scrambled eggs I'd stuffed into my mouth, I could feel it making my cheeks bulge as I chewed.

"He sleeps in the kitchen?" I asked, imagining how zealous Herry would be if he could do the same thing back home; and how Athena would react if he actually took the idea to heart and did.

Theresa just laughed when she looked at me, nodding at my question and taking a deep breath, preparing herself for telling her story. "Jay, do you believe in Fate?"

I nodded slowly, urging her to move on.

"Well, I don't know whether it _was_ Fate or some other belligerent being at work… but one day, when I was a lot younger, all of my relatives just happened to… disappear." Her eyebrows furrowed again and I wanted desperately to fold my hand over hers on the table to try and comfort her, but I didn't.

"Did you know your parents very well?" I didn't want to pry; I just wanted to sound sincere.

"I do remember my mother, but I can only recall bits and pieces of my father. Like the colour of his hair, and that he always seemed to be extremely busy with something; whether it was an obsession or a hobby I didn't really know." She paused, gathering her thoughts before going on, "Then one day, all of a sudden, I was just alone. I didn't really know where I was, and it didn't seem like the gods intended to be very kind to me at the time." She grimaced.

"Wait," I said, "how old are you now?" I couldn't help but let my curious tongue carve a line of irritation between Theresa's eyebrows.

She smiled though, "I'm about sixteen now." She didn't say it unkindly, but more as if it weren't something she'd really like to take a personal interest in. I sat back in my chair and waited for her to go on. "So from there, after a while on my own, I met Basil. He was just walking down the street when he saw me. Then he asked me my name and why I was crying, he was the only person who'd bothered to speak to me in weeks so I couldn't help it - I told him about everything." She caught a loose strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear bashfully.

I couldn't help but let a cocky grin spread across my face; she still had a few of her old – new - habits. "What happened then?" I asked.

She smiled softly and leaned down onto her hand again. "Basil took me to his house and before I really knew what was happening, I was helping him peel potatoes in his kitchen. Most people would have had me committed for the words I'd spewed, but he just accepted the facts." She laughed at the memory, "I've been staying with him ever since. I suppose he's something like a… father to me."

She gulped at the impalpable word but I still grinned at her, "At least your story had a happy ending."

"I suppose," she answered, sitting back against her chair. Her food had barely been touched. "Was that answering enough to satisfy you?"

I sat back, "More than enough, actually. I still have another question for you, though."

She sighed, laughing and shaking her head, "Go ahead."

"You told Basil that it was difficult to sneak away from your cabin… what did you mean by that?"

Her eyes were steady, but her breathing gave away her nervousness. "I don't believe we're well acquainted enough to delve into such things."

My playfulness bounced back, "Are you ever going to tell me?"

"Perhaps," she looked away from me, "perhaps not." Theresa's hair concealed part of her face, but not enough for me to miss the anxious, distracted look in her eyes.

I cleared my throat, "Something wrong?"

Theresa looked up at me with half-lidded eyes and laughed at a thought she'd just had, ignoring my question. "Jay, I've been meaning to ask you something…"

"Yes?"

She leaned in closer to me, so much so I could hear her steady breathing, "Why is it that you look so much like Jason?"

I sat up straight in my chair, leaning as far away from her inquiring eyes as I could. Had she just been staring at me this whole time and trying to make comparisons between Jason's and my appearance? I didn't really know what to say to her, because I doubt she would have believed me if I told her the truth. Thankfully though, I was saved by her next question:

"Are you somehow related to him?" she looked curious, her eyes bright, thinking it was an innocent question; but I don't think she knew how it made my mind reel. I felt like my organs had extemporaneously rearranged themselves and had all begun lodging themselves in my throat.

I cleared my throat, "You could say that."

She was about to open her mouth to ask more questions but I quickly stood up, scraping my chair back harshly against the wooden floor. I pushed my ceramic bowl out of the way and started backing towards the kitchen's low entrance. "You know what, Theresa? I don't think we should go down that road right now… it's a story for another day." I raised my hands peacefully as I moved away.

Theresa stood as well, her hands still on the table, "Jay, wait!" I stopped and waited for her to come around the other side of the table and stand in front of me, her hands clasped together in front of her. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"Uhm… I was thinking I could go get some sleep before everyone came back," I explained, "I've been awake all night."

Theresa looked down, emitting a barely audible "Oh."

Her brow furrowed again and I swallowed. I tried quickly to make amends, "But I'm sure we'll be able to talk again soon."

She lifted her eyes so that they would meet mine. "I'm sure we can," she said the words gently, but she wasn't smiling. Theresa turned around to go sit down again, swaying her hips as she walked, looking dejected and a bit lonely. I was doing my best to not get drawn in by her temperament.

I turned around, shaking my head to distract myself as I walked to the kitchen's antechamber. As I made my way past the open 'fresh produce' door I stopped, frozen by what I heard. There was a sound of very heavy, anxious breathing; and as soon as I spun on my heel to face the open doorway, there was a sudden silence. The silence though, didn't last very long, the breathing slighter, but still holding its presence. I held my breath, waiting for some other sound to indicate any sign of movement in the dark room.

By now, Theresa had already sidled up beside me. "What is it?" she whispered.

"Sshh," I shushed her, putting my finger to my lips to beckon silence. She complied, leaning forwards to investigate. There was a moment of complete stillness, which was short lived. I tensed and took a step closer to the door.

Someone's shoes scuffled on the other side.

I took action immediately, throwing the wooden door open wider and springing inside. Reflexively, I reached for my Xyphos, only to find that I didn't have any pockets. I cursed, remembering that I was wearing a tunic and my sword was still buried somewhere within my satchel.

Groaning inwardly, I quickly improvised. Sheaves of wheat hung from nails embedded into the ceiling of the dark storeroom and I quickly swiped two or three of them, brandishing them like short whips in each hand. Throwing the door closed in Theresa's face to see behind it; I lashed out with my make-shift weapons.

There was an explosion of raucous noise and my face was being scratched wildly as I attacked. I tried grabbing out at whoever was attacking me but caught empty space in my palms. Theresa threw the door back open, carrying a lamp to illuminate the room. I looked about when my assailant stopped embedding their nails into my face. Then I saw who it was…

A chicken: grey-feathered and menacing.

She laughed, it was the most wonderful sound; but also the most humiliating. I looked down to where the rooster was scurrying around, bearing its beak at me and digging its feet into the ground as a sign of challenge. I wanted very badly to strangle the thing. Instead, I only shooed it into a corner, knowing that Basil wouldn't be too pleased if I killed off one of his chickens.

Theresa put a hand on my arm to turn me around, still laughing at what had happened, and most probably at my huffed disposition. "Did you get hurt, Jay?"

Suddenly I was transported back into the memory of her saying those exact words to me when Herry had beaten me at arm wrestling. Her tone was light and amused, and it made me feel even more embarrassed.

At least I had a good chance to look around the room. It was filled with tiny animals kept behind little wooden gates, mostly goats and sheep… and a few chickens. There were piles of unpeeled fruits and wet vegetables stacked up to the high ceiling, herb gardens springing to life in the humidity. The room really was meant for 'Fresh Produce'.

I stood up straight, "It's nothing I can't handle, no need to worry." I waved her off, trying to retain at least some shred of my dying dignity.

Her mouth quirked up at the corners, illuminating her cheekbones in the dim light. Her fingers stretched up to my face, touching a deep scratch under my eye. It wasn't profound enough to leave a scar, but it was shallow enough to be able to produce an annoying stinging sensation that was most likely echoed by my expression. Her fingers were gentle, comforting even.

"Come with me," she said, holding her hand out to me, "I know something that can maybe help to clean you up a bit."

"What? Are you going to give me a bath?"

She almost giggled, "If I thought you needed a bath, I wouldn't have invited you to eat breakfast with me."

I took her outstretched hand, letting her lead me out of the storage room, through the antechamber, and up the low stairs out into the late-morning sunshine. The deck almost gleamed.

I was the first to speak as we walked, Theresa ahead of me, her grip firm on my wrist as if she were a teacher dragging a reluctant schoolboy to the principal's office. "I'm surprised that ruckus didn't wake up Basil."

"It's probably for the best, he snores too loudly to hear much. So consider yourself fortunate that he didn't catch us in his pantry."

I wanted to laugh, but my ego was still a bit too bruised to attempt it. "So, where are you taking me, then?"

I could hear the smug smile in her voice, "I'm going to get your face cleaned up, it's a good thing you can't see what you look like right now."

"That doesn't really answer my question, Theresa."

She laughed, "You want to know where we're going? You'll just have to wait and see."

…

_**Chapter done! I did my best, so please go easy on me!**_

_**Reviews… yes?**_

_**Much love!**_

_**=)**_


	12. Chapter 11: Not Enough Hours in a Day

_**Hello all!**_

_**I hope you've all had a wonderful week. A big thank you to my reviewers: **__**Emma**__**, **__**classofthetitans711**__**, **__**Insanity is my middle name**__**, **__**HoneyGodess57**__**, **__**Tinian I'att**__** and **__**Divine Mist**__**.**_

_**Okay so I feel TERRIBLE for being so off the radar lately, and I don't actually have an excuse, so I did do my best to get the chapter done quickly. Please forgive me if it is a bit sucky, I'm in that stage where I think nothing is good enough.**_

_**Anyway…**_

…

_**Chapter 11**_

_**Not Enough Hours in a Day**_

I couldn't believe it. The captain's quarters were spectacular, fresh sunlight filtering through ruby red glass windows stained the spacious interior with a glaring rouge undertone. The space smelled of sea salt and stale wood-smoke, an occasional spray of glittering seawater swooping against the windows and making it seem as if the floorboards were bleeding rosy shadows. The walls were panelled with thick mahogany, insulating every creaky crevice to maintain the levelled temperatures.

Scrolls and parchments were scattered across and beyond a ragged work surface, painting the walls in sketchy blueprints and maps varying in their credibility. The corners of almost every loose page had leafed and curled inward from the humidity. Unlit candles of fluctuating lengths littered almost every open space, some even placed precariously upon stacks of stained parchment, sagging slowly to the side, leaky wax oozing out of place and latching onto the yellowing paper.

The only neat segment within the room was the bed, though the covers were messily tossed about from a bad night's sleep, there wasn't a single sheet of mangled, crumpled or smooth paper near it. It just seemed to be screaming 'Sanctuary' with every amount of maladroitness it could muster from its aesthetics; but it did look awfully comfortable. My aching back simply melted at the sight of it.

Not dwelling to fully inhale the essence of the room, Theresa yanked me forwards as she walked, only allowing me summarise a few bits and bobs lying about the floor and congest it into my memory.

It wasn't often you got to see the bedroom most resembling your own style. As I looked up, I could see the stars, endless diagrams mapping out their charted course. The drawings were matted into the dark wooden ceiling with black charcoal and ivory chalk, endlessly seaming lines linking every blinking dot, somewhat resembling a circular grid pattern. It looked like a systematic motif.

Theresa pulled me along to the worktable, letting my wrist loose as she dug her slim fingers into its decaying drawers for something. Feeling a little awkward standing and watching Theresa while her back was turned, I rotated on the balls of my feet to survey the room again, still awestruck by its simplicity and character.

"Ahem," Theresa cleared her throat loudly after a moment.

I turned again to face her, standing with her hands on her hips, pushing my surroundings to the back of my mind for now. The sunlight streaming through the bloodshot windows hid the colour of her eyes, but mixed well with her tanned skin – making her seem as if she were glowing in the soft rays.

"Try using some of this, it's supposed to help with…" she bit her lip, "scarring."

I waved off the word, giving her amused smile, "Because I don't have enough of those."

Her cheeks were still lit up by the curl in the corner of her lip. "Oh? Well let me see. Maybe we can do something about them too."

Without waiting for an answer she came and stood right under my nose, holding a small, silvery bottle resembling a rough flask in her hand. Theresa pulled the small brown cork free from the bottle and tipped it to the side, allowing a pasty brown substance to flow slowly onto her fingertips. Gently, she brushed it over the deepest scratches, an instant soothing sensation washing over me and sending chills down my spine. It smelled of aloe, mint and something else much sweeter. I looked down at Theresa and realised the source of the sweet scent. Her hair was just below me, and as I was trying to inhale the smell of the potent mixture she was rubbing onto my cheeks, I was inhaling the honeyed fragrance of her hair. It smelled like her bedroom at the Brownstone, like fresh green apples.

It was _her_ scent.

I was so mesmerized by its appeal I didn't hear Theresa calling my name until she shouted, "Jay!"

"Huh, what?" I said unintelligibly, dragging myself back into the situation.

Our eyes met and she was clearly irritated, "Where did you go for the past minute?"

My lip curled up, "Lost myself in thought I guess."

She raised an eyebrow, giving me a smirk. "You seem to get distracted quite easily," she pointed out.

"Increasingly… with you around," the words were out before I could stop them; but Theresa just laughed, not seeming to notice my flirtatious approach. I didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

"Well then, let's see them." She put her hands on her hips again, expectantly this time.

"What do you mean?" I was confused.

"The scars you were bragging about a few seconds ago," she said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Are you sure?" I questioned.

Theresa just gave me a look, implying that she was fully intent on putting pasty brown dollops of that lotion all over my worn scars. Her stance was similar to that of a strict but caring mother, who would kiss your finger when you got a splinter just to make you feel better, and then hit you hard on the backside for getting it in the first place.

I sighed, giving in to her plight for reasons unknown to me, "All right. Just remember that you asked for it."

I let Theresa seat me on the bed, knowing full well that what she would see wouldn't be pretty. I let the strip of material covering my shoulder fall loosely down to my elbow as she sat down next to me, exposing the right side of my chest and upper arm. I'd expected her to gasp at least, but not a single sound escaped her lips.

She put a cold hand on my arm, pulling it closer to her so that she could inspect the marks carved into my skin. She ran her finger slowly over each bump of scar tissue, hesitating when she reached a larger patch. It was the scar from the chimaeras' snake-tail's harsh bite. Two holes dug into the skin of my arm where its fangs had caught me; two more, I knew, were nestled in deeper within the underside of my arm near my triceps. A blotch of skin spread from the holes where an infection had run, making the skin seem marbled, reflecting the red light of the room.

I remembered that day well: Fear of losing my friends and failing the gods were the things that always ran through my head when I reminisced. I had been rescued by my teammates' perseverance, and to this day I don't believe I could ever pay them back in full for the life they had returned to me.

I hadn't noticed Theresa pouring the lotion onto the tips of her fingers, and jerked away when the cold balm touched the film of marbled skin around the two points near my shoulder, emitting a yelp of surprise.

"Hold still!" Theresa scolded, not in the least bit phased by the mosaic of various lines and splodges drawn over my shoulder and bicep. "Where did you get these from in the first place?"

"I thought women liked men with scars, you know, to show off their toughness," I flexed my muscles to add to my sarcasm.

"Or maybe it just shows off their idiocy," she retorted.

I snorted at her comment, "I don't only have those. There are many more where that came from."

"Why do you sound so proud of yourself for getting hurt?" the question was rhetorical, and I let it lie, too caught up with my own thoughts.

Her fingers ran over the ridges of displaced skin, wiping the brown stuff up and down scattered marks. Goosebumps ran down the length of my arm as her cold hands worked over it, trying to repair the damage.

"It's strange," I reflected softly.

"What's strange, Jay?" her tongue poked through between her teeth a she concentrated.

"Most people who see these immediately turn a violent shade of green." I pointed out.

"So you go around showing your scars to people?"

I laughed, "Not exactly."

"Well, let's just say I'm not the squeamish type, precisely."

"Why? Are you somehow immune to the results of violence?"

She glowered, "Something in that sense, yes… but who said anything about violence?"

I faced her and her eyes lifted to meet mine, hands still working, "If I'm honest: it's the first explanation that came to mind."

"Explanation for what?" her eyebrows furrowed.

"All of _your_ scars."

Theresa's hands froze dead on their way to stoppering the bottle; and instead let the flask fall with a metallic _clang_ to the hardwood floor. Her eyes were on my shoulder, too stubborn to tilt up and meet mine.

"What are you talking about?" she whispered harshly.

I turned fully to look at her, putting a hand to her chin to lift her face up to mine. Her eyes were dulled by that same sullen veil I had seen earlier, clouding their sparkle when she finally did look up at me.

"I've seen them," I answered gently, "the scars on your back."

It was true. I had seen them, glinting in the firelight of the kitchen: When she'd turned from me to go back to the table. The thin, white lines had stood out against her tanned skin, her bare back exposed by the capricious folds of her tunic. I hadn't registered what they were when I'd seen them; they seemed so natural on her, as if she'd carried them with her for years. I'd only begun getting suspicious when I'd remembered she couldn't have gotten them from any encounters with Cronus, and she wasn't expectedly a danger-seeker. I doubt very much that Basil's fatherly countenance would have allowed him to let her get hurt, which left me in puzzlement. Where had those unwarranted scars come from?

Theresa's fingers came up to where I held her chin, and she gently pulled my hand down, holding my gaze as she did so.

"Jay," she whispered dangerously, eyes menacing, "it's not important."

I wanted to gulp, dropping the subject immediately. Theresa was right. I suppose it wasn't that important after all. Perhaps I was just letting myself fall for a ruse. A lot of things could have explained those scars away, though none really came to mind. Her eyes confirmed what she had just implied, I should forget about it. The issue was frivolous, and I would pay no further heed to it. Her green eyes drilled into my mind, and I felt as if she were somehow reading my thoughts with that one glare, so I tried switching the topic.

"So then, these are the captain's quarters," I offered her a chance to calm herself.

Theresa bent to retrieve the bottle, some of its contents spilled over the floor. "Yes," she responded less hostilely, "this is where Jason spends an awful amount of time."

"I bet you have fun visiting him in here, the place has a lot of atmosphere."

She shook her head, "No, we're not allowed in here."

I looked at her as she stood to return the bottle to its resting place, knowing full well that my expression was radiating bewilderment. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said," she stated. "We're not allowed in here."

"Then why _are_ we in here?" panic started rising in my voice and I felt my muscles tense in uncertainty. What if we got caught?

"Because," Theresa turned back to me, jokingly adding, "you had a run-in with a bloodthirsty chicken and needed me to tend your wounds."

I pulled the strip of fabric back over my shoulder and stood up off of the bed to face her, she was half a head shorter than I was so I had to bend my neck forward to meet her gaze. "Why are you making me sound like I have no backbone?"

She smiled deviously. "Oh you have plenty of backbone, so much so you creak when you bend over," and with that, she turned on her heel and waltzed out of the room.

…

I had to trot to keep up with Theresa's brisk pace. She held her hands behind her back as she walked along the deck, blistering a trail of pure haughtiness into the wood as she went.

"Wait a moment," I ordered, earning me an impatient look, "where are you going?"

"I'm going for a walk. Feel free to come along." She sounded so completely offhand.

We went on together in silence for a while. Theresa stalked forward flippantly, eyes closed as if she were ignoring my presence. I was never really very good at predicting her train of thought, but I could easily tell if she were somehow troubled; and right now, I was having a hard time with both. Her expression was passive, her eyes still seeming clouded over by dark thoughts. Had I said something wrong? I didn't even remember what we had been talking about.

"Is there some reason for you to be staring at me?" she asked after a while.

I hadn't even noticed that I _had_ been staring; I'd been too lost in my own thoughts. Theresa was almost glaring at me, but it was an inquisitive glare; and I knew I had an easily distinguishable sheepish look plastered all over my face.

"I can't really help it," I admitted, "it's a bit difficult to take my eyes off of you."

She gave me a smirk, "Flattery will get you nowhere, Jay."

"Who said anything about flattery?" I asked. "I just want to be on your good side, that's all."

Theresa laughed, "You don't need to worry, Jay. My disposition towards you is somewhat neutralized."

"Is that all I am to you then," I asked dejectedly, "an acquaintance?"

"Don't sound so self-pitying. I'm only nice to people who interest me," she said matter-of-factly.

"So you consider me a bore?"

"Quite the contrary," she opened her eyes to look up at me, "I find you rather intriguing… mysterious even."

"So this is you being nice?" I asked in disbelief. "How am I so 'intriguing' then?" I just knew she was having too much fun teasing me.

"There are a lot of things you haven't told me. That's why I can't safely say whether I actually like you…" she stopped to lean onto the side of the boat, looking over at the swampy island, "or not."

"Well," I said, leaning onto the wood next to her, our arms almost touching, "maybe you haven't been asking me the right questions."

She turned her head to face me with a cocky grin and a raised eyebrow, "I wouldn't know where to start."

"Well, what interests you most about me? My charm? My good looks? My witty sense of humour?"

"Probably your modesty," she remarked, putting a finger to her lips in thought. "I'd still like to know what you're doing here."

"Truthfully," I said, turning around to lean with my back against the wood instead, "I'm only here to get something that I need to take back home with me."

"Oh? Well, what is it?"

I smiled, "A secret."

"Are you ever going to tell me what it is?"

"You'll know when I find it," I offered. "But first, I'd like to know where you got those from," I pointed down to her leggings. Honestly, I was extremely curious about them, I hadn't been able to come up with a single explanation for their presence… well, maybe a few thoughts crossed my mind; but a lot of them were just plain ridiculous.

She looked down to where I had pointed and then turned back to face me. I couldn't be sure, but I thought I could see a hint of red flooding to her cheeks. "These?" she asked. "Why do you want to know?"

I shrugged, "Just curious. I've never seen anyone else aboard the ship wear those."

Theresa looked down at her hands bashfully. "I made them myself. I've never really liked walking around with just a thin sheet of cloth covering me. I suppose I've just gotten too used to wearing them."

"It's good of you to be conservative," I complimented. She'd never worn anything that exposed too much of her body, I'd never even seen her in a bikini.

Theresa laughed again, "You are observant aren't you?"

"What do you mean?"

She shook her head with another laugh and ignored my question, instead asking me another one, "You still haven't told me why you look so much like my fiancé."

I wished she hadn't mentioned that word to remind me about her and Jason getting married. I grimaced slightly, and tried being nonchalant about it, "It's not important."

"Which implies that there is a reason behind the similarity," she observed.

I almost smacked my face with my palm at her persistence. "Why don't you tell me something instead?"

She gave me a knowing look, easily indicating that this conversation wasn't over yet, "What?"

"Why are you getting married to Jason? I mean, what do you see in him?" I could hear the misery in my own voice as I asked the question.

Theresa turned back to look at the waves lapping against the hull of the boat, making it rock gently in the noontime sun. "Because," she said softly, "he's the only one that wasn't scared away by my attitude." She smiled at the memory, "He wouldn't leave me alone until he'd figured me out."

"Did he? Figure you out, I mean," my voice was softer too.

Theresa looked at me, a hint of a playful smile on her lips, "He thinks so. He's much too easy to figure out."

"You don't sound particularly pleased by that. Would you have preferred someone more cryptic?"

"The Unknown can be dangerous, Jay. I feel it's better to play on the safe side with these things."

"If you know him so well, then why aren't you allowed in his cabin?" I couldn't help but let my curiosity overwrite the rest of my words.

She snorted, "No one's allowed in there. It's his private room, where he figures everything out for himself, you know, planning adventures and the like. Sometimes I wonder if it was his childish innocence I fell for in the first place, or maybe even his dominant paranoia; but he's one of the most compassionate people I've ever known. That's what makes him a good captain." She looked ashamed of herself, as if she'd revealed too much, leaning forward on her elbows to let her hair fall past her ear, masking her face from my view.

"How do _you_ feel about going on 'adventures'?"

She smiled, "Don't get me wrong, sometimes they're wonderful; but I feel I've had more than my fair share of them."

"That's understandable," I said.

She looked at me again, but with a sceptic expression this time, "Oh?"

"Yes," I said, "some people can go stark-raving mad when they have too much of a good thing. They become someone else." I told her this, remembering how she'd reacted after too much pressure from the gods, it was scary.

"Hmph. I know how that feels," she saw my raised eyebrow and waved off my silent question. "Come to think of it, I don't really know why I'm telling you all of this."

I smiled, "Maybe I just have that effect on you."

She shoved me with her elbow playfully, "Maybe."

…

I swayed lazily in my hammock, leaving me a lot of time for reflecting on the day's events. My nervousness about the situation on the island had temporarily disappeared, and I couldn't help but think that being in Theresa's presence had something to do with that. Even now my curiosity about what she was up to took preference over the rest of my worries, but I did wonder how it was going with Herry and Archie's mission. I was ultimately glad I could escape the wrath of Atlanta for the time being, knowing I should rather leave the catfight for Archie to resolve, he had a lot more practise arguing with her than I did.

I'd missed spending so much time with Theresa though. When we were at the Brownstone I would always know where to find her, either in her bedroom or on the roof, even occasionally sauntering into the lounge for movie night. I knew she liked to keep to herself a lot, but she was enjoyable company, and I preferred her quiet voice over the uproar of my chaotic schedule every time I had the chance to hear it.

The way she was now though had me puzzled, and slightly intimidated. It was easy to see that she wasn't telling me everything that had happened to her when she came here, and she didn't seem like she trusted me enough to give me the convenience of knowing about her altogether. Every sway of her hips held a secret too enticing for me to resist, and her taunting was just somehow… intoxicating.

I liked the riddles she put forward for me to clue through; they gave me something interesting to do to pass the time I had to spend to gain her trust and have more than a 'neutral' effect on her. Though, somehow, I knew something was a little odd. I couldn't really recall what had happened when we were together in the captain's quarters other than a bit of witty banter. Had I missed something important? For the life of me, I didn't know why she was being so secretive and how exactly that made her even more alluring.

What snippet of today was I missing?

When I thought back to what had gone down in the kitchen, Theresa had easily told me quite a bit. However, worry had a way of nipping at my thoughts like a curious fox. She said she was sixteen now. It scared me how accurate Cronus had been. He'd timed it perfectly. Theresa had been left stranded and found a decent home given to her by friendly people, which was understandable. What baffled me was that she was the same age as when we'd known her back home, and that she was aboard the Argo with most of our ancestors. I couldn't help but feel uneasy, that all this was somehow planned, and that something was terribly wrong.

My distressing died down as I slowly drifted to sleep. There were so many things I had to worry about now that I thought about it, and stressing wasn't good for me. All I wanted to do was go to sleep and dream healthy dreams, to get away and clear my head.

But somehow, I still couldn't shake the feeling… that I had forgotten something.

…

_**Phew, chapter 11 completed! All of this being the result of procrastination from my studies, but hey, I have to indulge myself a little…**_

_**I think the chapter turned out well, despite the fact that it's mostly dialogue. Jay and Theresa are somewhat acquainted, and I really like the way Theresa is with him now. Girls in those times were so inexplicably forward. I'm not the type to enjoy a heroine that is all damsel-in-distress-y. I like headstrong heroines with a lot of attitude.**_

_**If any of you have noticed, I am a huge fan of sarcasm. I absolutely love how to show your wit with it, that and it makes for a good laugh; no matter who says that it's the last resort of the imaginatively bankrupt.**_

_**Now I'd like to hear all of your opinions! How do you feel about the plot progressing and where do you think it will go? What's your perception of Theresa's change in character? How do you feel about Jay's worries? What do you think of Jason's character (even from the little you've seen)? What's going on with the relationship between Theresa and Jay? What do you think is happening on that island? Should I shut up now?**_

_**Please leave a review!**_

_**Lots of love and witticisms,**_

_**~Toymaker**_


	13. Chapter 12: The Nightmare Continues

_**Hey there to all of you!**_

_**Thanks to my reviewers: FlyWithMe2Neverland, classofthetitans711, HoneyGoddess57 and Tinian I'att.**_

…

_**Chapter 12**_

_**The Nightmare Continues**_

We were home again, the familiar forests on the outskirts of New Olympia welcoming us as Herry drove by the sign reading _New Olympia – Two Miles_. There was a bustle of excited voices in the back of the truck, everyone chattering about absolute nonsense that they wouldn't remember when we got home.

Theresa sat in the front seat, her hair tied up in a messy pony-tail, exposing more of her face, just the way I liked it. She turned back to face me and smiled, Herry chortling about something in the driver's seat next to her. She was smiling at me, and I grinned back.

The truck swerved with a jolt to overtake a car in front of us, and we all swayed with it, Herry still laughing. "Are you ready, Jay?" Theresa asked me, her voice vibrant and ringing in my ears.

I was still grinning, "Ready for what?" The truck swerved again, this time with more of a violent jerk.

"Can't you hear the sirens?" she was still smiling.

I could hear them. They were chasing us, gaining, just on our tail. They sounded harsh and determined. Had we done something wrong? Why was everyone still so happy? Theresa laughed louder, absentmindedly reaching for the volume knob on the truck's radio. A crisp, heavy sound exploded from the speakers, completely blocking out the sound of the whirring sirens. I had to cover my ears to actually hear what it was through the blare.

The sound that came out of the speakers was deafening, and hauntingly familiar. Cronus' laugh, the one he always bellows with when he believes he's won. The one that had me shivering from fear whenever I heard it. Everyone erupted in laughter and fell in with the harsh cackling, splitting my ears with their volume. The sound was eerie and echoing in the tiny space. What was going on?

The inside of the car was filled with distant voices transcending and dropping in pitch, matching that of Cronus' own crowing. I turned and faced the others. Where my team had been only a moment before, faceless creatures were roaring in thundering fits of laughter. Their limbs were short and twisted; all elastically reaching out to me at the same time, eyes only smoky red orbs and limitlessly menacing. The liquid limbs caught me, grabbing me by my neck, arms and legs, dragging me into a black abyss that blazed between them as I struggled fruitlessly against their pull. Nothing could be seen in the clamouring darkness. Nothing could be heard save that of Cronus' deep, satisfied laughter. A wave of fear washed over me, I couldn't even hear myself screaming.

It all started to fade in a slowly erupting wave, as if I'd been plunged into stippled black water; but silently, there played the reminiscent tune of a tinkling music box, clicking to a slow stop.

…

I jolted upright, jerking myself out of my hammock and landing in a pathetic heap on the floor as I did so. The threads from the fibrous material of the hammock tangling over and around my arms and legs recalled the image of the twisting limbs that had pulled at me and I yelled out when I hit a solid floor, my ears still blocked by the subconscious stillness.

I swallowed bitterly as relief flooded over me; I was okay. It was only a dream, but it had me sweating furiously.

I took in a deep huff of salty sea-air and looked around the empty sleeping chamber; there didn't seem to be anyone else in the room. They must have still been on the island, which had me wondering exactly what time it was and how long I had been asleep.

I tried disentangling myself from the mess of threads that had a hold on my ankles, but I only ended up getting trapped in more of the spindly fabric. I pouted and then decided to stand up, regretting my attempt as I immediately took a trip, nose-first, back down to the hard floor. Groaning, I instead pulled myself free from the nest of rope by slowly crawling along the floor until I was far away from the heap of messy twine, only a small trail of it following me along the floor.

Standing up, I dusted myself off, removed the last loop of rope from my ankle, and took a look at the torn bit of fabric that had been allocated to me as a home. There was a huge hole in the middle of the material where I had unwoven the threads while flailing around in my sleep, and more of it had come undone when I'd pulled myself free of the cords. I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck where I'd fallen.

My hammock was placed next to the short stairway that led into the sleeping chamber. Meaning that I always got the hottest or coldest share of the incoming air, depending on our position in the ocean; an occasional sea spray reaching me to wake me up early in the mornings of the never-ending journey.

Nightmares, I hated them.

I'd had that one before though, remembered almost every detail - but the music box was new. It was the tune from Theresa's music box, or at least what my subconscious mind could evoke of the melody. I knew what the nightmare meant; I've had them too often not to know. I was stressed… not that it was much of a surprise. A lot of things had occurred lately, things I hadn't had enough time to mull over yet. I would be able to sort myself out if I could control where my mind wandered, there were just too many things that needed considering for it all to work out systematically.

A loud thud came from behind me and I turned immediately to investigate. I came face to face with a panting Herry, Archie tumbling down the few steps after him in a grumpy huff. They were both red-faced and out of breath. Herry practically barged over to me as Archie stood up and theatrically dusted himself off behind the burly boy.

They both looked at me gravely for what seemed like hours, catching their breath shallowly. Finally, I just couldn't take the weight of what was going unsaid between us and hurriedly burst out, "Well, what happened? Did it work?"

Herry and Archie exploded in long sighs of relief, huge grins cracking into their serious expressions. "You're still here aren't you?" asked Herry. "I think we did well enough."

"Yeah," added Archie, "I think you're good. As long as no part of you suddenly disappears or you don't spontaneously combust, that is."

I smiled, extremely relieved, weight rolling off of my shoulders and away to where they couldn't bother anybody, "You really think it all went okay?"

Herry chuckled, "Positive." He scowled suddenly, his hand going to the back of his head out of intimated reflex. "But I don't think Jason's going to be too happy about what we did to him though."

"I couldn't imagine _anybody_ being happy about it," Archie fiddled with his fingers.

I almost melted in relief, grinning exuberantly at my two friends. This was fantastic! I decided I'd worry about Jason's possible reactions later, at least something good happened; things were finally starting to look up now. "Guys," I said breathlessly, "this is awesome! I can't thank you enough for-"

Archie draped his arm casually over my shoulder, interrupting my train of thought, "As long as you don't make us do anything like that again, you won't have to return the favour."

I was about to point out that I didn't actually _make_ them do anything, but I was interrupted again. Only this time, it was by Atlanta's furious squawk, "Where have you guys been!"

All three of us turned simultaneously to look at the red-faced redhead, all of us immediately averting our eyes from her livid glare, suddenly taking a keen interest in our sandals. She stomped down the few steps aggressively and pulled me down to her level by the front of my tunic. Our noses almost touched, and I could almost feel the anger rolling off of her in waves. Archie gulped softly next to me, only making me feel even more nervous.

"I only have one question," Atlanta stated through clenched teeth, "what in Hades is going on with you guys?"

"Nothing!" we all responded in unison.

Atlanta raised an eyebrow, a very clear sign that she wasn't buying it. "Then why did you do me the gracious honour of locking me in the food closet?"

"Uhhh…" I felt the sweat start to bead on my forehead and slowly start to drizzle down my face under her hot glare and irate shouting. Should we tell her? I didn't really see the harm now. If she really wanted to know that badly I could brush it off, but I would have preferred it if we could just keep the day's events to ourselves. I stole a glance at Archie and Herry; they both wore equally uncertain expressions.

The menacing flames in Atlanta's eyes dimmed down and she became less hostile, sensing something important must have been up if we were all looking so reluctant. She searched my face almost desperately for an explanation, "Just tell me the truth."

Archie shuffled over to us and put his pale hand on her small shoulder. She slowly uncurled her fingers from the fabric of my tunic, instead turning to him for an answer to her incomprehension.

"Atlanta," he started awkwardly, "you better take a seat."

…

"So you wanted to prevent the chance of you not existing by incapacitating Jason and making sure he got together with an Amazon?" Atlanta summarised. We'd been delving through our complex reasoning and relaying the information together for Atlanta, the past half hour taken up by our tales of misadventure. Archie, Herry and I were nodding along with her words as she spoke, all the while encouraging her to keep the particulars to herself. At one point, Archie had tried adding more action to the story, over exaggerating every detail until it had gone a little too far and we had to put an end to his re-enactments.

The sleeping chamber was still empty. That was good because Atlanta probably wasn't allowed in here, seeing as she shared a cabin with Atalanta and no one else was allowed in there. It was already late afternoon when I'd woken up, and by now it must have been almost sunset. Somehow, Atlanta didn't seem angry anymore; rather she seemed quite hurt that she'd been kept in the dark, literally, about the past days' occurrences. It wasn't fair to leave her out of the process, but I would have preferred it to keep the information private… for personal reasons.

"Yeah," said Herry, "something like that."

Atlanta leaned back against the wall; we were all sitting cross-legged on the planked floor of the sleeping chamber. She looked like she was extremely tender with the information we'd just fed her, and I couldn't blame her for feeling that way. I was disgusted at the plan in the first place and only agreed to it because no other solution came to mind. I could have just told Jason the truth, but doing something like that could have dire implications. For one thing, it could have blown our cover completely.

"So then why did you lock _me_ away?" she asked, still wearing an indecisive expression.

"The plan depended on timing," I said. "We didn't know what would happen if we had to spend time relaying the operation to you."

"Also," Archie added, "you're really persistent, and you wouldn't have let us go along with the plan 'cause you'd think it was disgusting."

Atlanta sighed and gave Archie an edgy look, "You're probably right… about the last part anyway. And it's not like _you_ wouldn't have been sickened by the idea."

Archie chose to ignore this, histrionically scratching his ear with one finger to make it look like he hadn't heard her.

"Regardless," I said, "it was the first thing we thought of without having to put you through something traumatic. So we're sorry for doing that to you, Atlanta."

"We wanted to spare the details from you, Neil and Odie." Herry said, "We felt it was just a minor setback in a major operation, you know? Too much information and the like."

Atlanta pretended to think about it, "I suppose it's justified; but I still don't think it was fair that you guys were willing to keep things from the rest of us."

Archie smiled at her, "Would you forgive us if we promised not to do it again?"

Atlanta gave him a smirk and nudged him with her toe, "You think I'm going to let you catch me again? Don't make me laugh."

Archie grinned, "You are so on."

Those words were enough to spread a wry grin on Atlanta's small face, and for the two of them to catapult themselves up the stairs and out of the chamber, Atlanta speeding off ahead of Archie as they went. Herry and I looked at each other, sharing a silent chuckle. At least those two would burn off some steam, and the exercise would do them some good. It was frustrating not to have enough space to run about, despite how large the ship was.

"So," Herry started, "what happened to your bed?" He was pointing at my torn hammock, some of the fabric still in a tangled heap on the floor.

I rubbed the back of my neck and sighed as the realisation hit me that I wouldn't have anywhere more comfortable than the floor to sleep on. "Uh, just had a bad night's sleep."

Herry gave me a sceptic look, "Night? I think you've already slept through most of the morning."

I smiled, "Not exactly."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's just say the plan is fully operational now that we've eliminated some of the minor details." I couldn't help but cheer up when I said this. I felt like we were finally getting somewhere now that Theresa knew my name; and I would be able to talk to her more often now that I was acquainted with Basil and knew some major parts of her back-story. I took a deep breath of satisfied air, still smiling at Herry's expression.

"So you finally got somewhere with Theresa?" Herry asked.

"Yep, and I think she may even consider me a friend now."

"Jay, Atlanta was right. Remember, this isn't just your mission. You can't just keep us out of it and expect us to know what's happening all the time; it's not fair to the rest of us." Herry seemed almost peeved at my chipper attitude.

I turned and faced him. He was right, I was being extremely selfish lately; but I couldn't help it. I was a sullen mess then, but now I felt more at ease. I hadn't been a good leader for my team, but I planned to change that sooner rather than later.

"I will, Herry. As soon as everyone's back on board, we'll have a team meeting. I wanted to hear some of your opinions on the matter in any case," We walked up the few stairs together as I said this, and I really meant it. I wasn't being fair to any of them by keeping all of the information to myself.

Herry seemed much calmer now and almost smiled, somewhat content with my response. "Okay, so we're just going to- Jay, watch out!"

His cry came a split-second too late. Something hit me over the head hard and I fell forward, caught by the sturdy, unfriendly arms of Theseus. Herry tried to intervene on my behalf, but was held back strongly by a much stronger Hercules. Theseus hauled me up suddenly, nearly throwing me out in front of him, his arms now encircling my biceps and chest to stop me from squirming away from him and out of his hold. My head throbbed violently as I struggled against his bulk. What did they feed these people?

I was lifted off the ground and carried to the main deck beneath the forecastle of the ship. Behind the heavy iron railing stood Jason, towering above me like a great king as I was forced down to my knees on the firm boards of sun-bleached wood, Theseus now holding my hands clasped tightly behind my back.

Jason glared down at me icily from his lofty perch. His hair was tousled in a wild heap as if he's been attacked by birds, and his signature armour glinted messily in the dimming sunlight. He looked like he just came out of a particularly boorish tussle with someone far bigger than him. He stood completely still and I could see him breathing heavily in his squalid anger, somewhat stooping with the effort – he seemed simply exhausted, as if he would collapse at any moment. The only thing that would have made it funny was if he had lipstick smudges all over his face like in those senseless cartoons; but there was nothing at all comical about the look he was throwing at me at that moment.

"I thought I could trust you, Jay." He said, "You seemed so promising at first, I had even considered us friends, comrades." He leaned his weight forward onto the rail to make sure I was paying close attention to him. I tried looking away but Theseus pulled my head back by my hair, forcing my eyes up to the forecastle. "I don't know why you did what you did, but I assure you, Jay, that your actions will not go unpunished."

I gulped and Herry shuffled behind me, a crowd had started to gather to see what was going on. Half of the crew was now watching the captain, some of them placing bets on whether or not Jason would have me thrown overboard or whipped.

"For your little bite of fun, Jay, you will be left here on the island with whatever you carry with you at this moment." He reminded me very much of a strict principal or a prison warden. I wanted to speak up and ask him what I was guilty of, but as soon as the first gasp of air left my lungs Theseus had kneed me between the shoulder blades and I spluttered loudly.

Jason didn't let this little stunt stop his embellished pride, "And furthermore-"

"What are you doing, Jason?" a loud voice came from somewhere behind the crowd. The throng immediately parted to allow her passage, and Theresa stepped forward into the semicircle formed by the crowds and the high wall below the forecastle, looking up at Jason with a menacing but at the same time questioning expression.

Jason looked down at her with weak eyes, "Theresa, please - this has nothing to do with you."

She folded her arms tightly over her chest and almost snorted, very unladylike for someone with her title. "Is that so?" she started up the steps to the forecastle, "Can I have a word with you, Jason?"

He looked like he was about to roll his eyes, reluctant about having to quit his bout of orders, but he curtly turned to face her and they spoke too softly for me to hear anything other than quick stints of anger or confusion. As this occurred, hushed whispers reverberated around the crowd, everyone too curious and frightened to turn away or say anything out loud. Jason meekly used hand gestures while explaining his side of the argument, Theresa whispering back at him heatedly. Jason pointed down at me accusingly and Theresa shot me a shocked glance, she then looked at him seriously and said something very slowly. Jason seemed to pause, whisper something back, and then stiffly nod in his consent.

Theresa took a step back and Jason turned around to face me again, his hands on the metal railing. "You're lucky, Jay. I wouldn't show this type of mercy to just anybody, but seeing as you are a _dear old friend_ of my fiancé," he paused, narrowing his eyes, the way he said that seemed like he was trying to mimic Theresa's voice, obviously disbelieving what she'd told him, "you will stay aboard the Argo;" I breathed a sigh of relief, "and assist the cook with his duties."

This left me taken aback slightly, the cook? He wanted me to work with Basil?

Jason went on, "You will not leave the kitchens or the galley, you will not come on land when we make port, and," he paused again, his eyes burning, "you will have no interaction with my fiancé whatsoever from now on."

I could feel my face fall even more than it already had. I wasn't allowed to see Theresa? This was bad. No, it was horrible! How was I supposed to get the information I needed?

I glanced at Theresa. Hurt crossed her face with a flit of anger, making her look as if she despised the sight of me, like I was vermin. I didn't want to meet her gaze, I felt like I had betrayed her by doing what I did. I couldn't defend myself and pull Herry and Archie into this - that would just be stupid and selfish. As the sun vanished behind the horizon, my head sank with it. In a typical prison warden manner, Jason turned and walked back to his cabin, yanking Theresa after him. I was left to be pulled down to the galley below deck by Theseus' agonising strength, the disappointed crowds watching me as I went.

I didn't have the heart or the breath to try and struggle against him as my feet swept lifelessly across the deck. Today hadn't gone my way after all… I never planned for anything like this. I didn't know what to do. Normally I would have relished such a challenge, easily clueing through some manner or loophole to get out of escape my sentence; but now I just felt sick to my stomach.

I was too stupefied to react when I heard Herry make a bland remark behind me, "Well, at least now you don't have to worry about fixing your bed."

…

_**Mwahaha! Jay is my little victim!**_

_**What did you guys think?**_

_**Don't be too hard on Jason; he was just flustered and trying to restore order. Besides, Jay **_**was**_** the last person he saw, so naturally he would assume he had something to do with it. Captains those days weren't very forgiving when you made a big blunder.**_

_**At least the story's moving on a bit more now!**_

_**Don't hate, XD**_

_**~Toymaker**_


	14. Chapter 13: The Golden Fleas

_**Thanks to my reviewers!**_

_**Insanity is my second name, Heart of the Angel, classofthetitans711 and HoneyGoddes57! You guys are awesome, hugs to you all! :)**_

_**Someone asked me how old everyone is, as it is after Phantom Rising (which is during their second year battling Cronus); Jay, Herry, Odie, Theresa and Neil are sixteen/seventeen. Archie and Atlanta are fifteen/sixteen. It depends on when their birthdays are.**_

_**P.S. Insanity is my second name, for some reason I couldn't reply to your reviews. Maybe it was a glitch, but thank you all the same!**_

…

_**Chapter 13**_

_**The Golden Fleas**_

Not two weeks had passed since the day I had been ceremoniously exiled from the deck of the Argo. Carved tallies sketched across the wall beside my allocated divan marked the days I had spent as a captive below the leveled bed of activity aboard the ship. The scratches were the natural occurrence of proclivity and the sharp point of the small pen-knife I had been instructed to carry with me at all times. Basil had told me it would me more efficient to have it on hand, so as to perform various duties around the tiny kitchen that I now considered my prison; but it turned out to be a lot more useful to me as a means of desultory entertainment.

The blade was a thin sheet of dark obsidian, useful for skinning small animals and peeling rough vegetables or shelling nuts. The handle was made of mainly redwood, though Basil had one with a hilt of hollow ox-bone. "It makes for a good grip," he'd told me after showing me his pinkie-less left hand to emphasize his point about maintaining the right hold on the utensil. Nonetheless, the little blade had consumed most of my attention, binding me to a single state of mind hour upon rusting hour. The point was slight and sharp enough to notch itself into the thick wooden floorboards when I took aim and flung it, and it was rigid enough for me to pull it out again with ease… and then repeat the process many times over until I had something more engaging to do – which didn't happen very often.

Odie had smuggled my satchel down to me from where I'd left it below my torn hammock and I'd stashed it quickly away between my new bed and the scarred wall of my tiny room. I didn't really need any of the things in the bag, and none of the items carried any value in distraction; but it was still a comfort to know that they were close at hand if ever I required them.

The only source of amusement in the ship's lower levels – other than brooding in a dank room and throwing knives at the floor – was the grimy kitchen-hand named Flea. He had a very fitting name, as he wasn't the most likely person to take a quick dip in a hot spring if he were ever to come across one. He would actually give one the impression that he found quite a great deal of pleasure in radiating waves of his own squalor. Curiously, his hands were always scrubbed clean – a result of Basil's strict commandments in handling food – and he didn't seem to mind this, though he often had to catch himself before raking a hand through his greasy, plastered-back brown hair and getting severely punished.

Then again, he _wasn't_ much of an amusement. He would leave the kitchen for hours at a time, and often only return when Basil had retired to bed for the night. Unlike me, he had free reign and could traverse the open waters of the ocean and descend the stairway to Atlantis if he wished to do so; but usually he would stay below deck, only roaming about the galley and kitchen or wandering like a specter among the twists and turns near the wide arches of the hollow sleeping chambers.

In a sense I suppose I owed thanks to Flea, as he'd willingly given up his bed to me. He liked to sleep in the fresh produce room, next to the goat in its tiny pen. In return for letting him continue sleeping there, I had acquired a softer straw mattress and a temperate chamber to sleep in. The only problem was that I had to share the room with the snoring Basil, not that it _was_ much of a problem. I was worked so hard and often fell to sleep immediately; and on the rare nights when I couldn't sleep, the sound of his deep breathing drastically lowered the risk of waking him with the soft _thunk_ of my blade digging into the floor. It was a win for Basil as well – he didn't have to share the room with Flea.

Flea didn't talk much, hardly ever uttering a word. Upon my first meeting with him, Basil had been absent, making the atmosphere somewhat tense and awkward as I'd had no forewarning of the small boy's presence. He didn't look much older than eleven or twelve, but he was easily recognizable. His icy, superstitious glare reminded me of the way Herry watched you when you got to the last slice of pizza before he did.

I didn't exactly have anything to quarrel about concerning him, aside from his obvious lack in an innate sense of hygiene. We had silently agreed upon a mutual distrust and some degree of tolerance with a blink and a barely discernable nod of the head, each of us keeping to ourselves and ignoring the other's presence when the need arose. We were comfortable as acquaintances, and I sincerely hoped that we would not delve into any deeper design of a somber friendship.

Theseus had first tossed me down into the stuffy kitchen with an aggressive shove, giving Basil stern and concise orders as to where I was allowed to go, who I was allowed to talk to, and what I was supposed to do while I was down here. Simply put, I was confined to the kitchen and galley. I wasn't allowed to talk to anyone other than Basil and Flea (as if I intended to do much of that), and I was not permitted to leave the ship when we hit land. I thought it logical to consider myself a prisoner, a jailbird, a convict; my list of synonyms stretched on for miles and included many a label for my haphazard situation.

My biggest worry was getting out of my rut. I didn't have much of a plan, or any plan for that matter, as my resources were austerely limited. Once I'd been desperate enough to consider taking the wooden cooking spoon and digging my way out… but that was just ridiculous.

With a sigh, I lay back onto my straw mattress. Not knowing whether to continue tossing my knife at the floor or attempt to fall asleep, I let my fingers trace absently across the cuts in the wall, listening to the sounds of Basil's deep breaths. I'd had the nightmare again, flashing across my vision when I slept. Every time it would be the same, only coming across in more detail than before. It frightened me: the images of the twisting limbs belonging to my deforming friends who had soon turned to a deathly pale blue, the menacing ruby eyes in their distorted faces, it was too unequivocal and otherworldly. Yet my own experience amongst such fabled wraithlike creatures hindered the possibility and made it seem agonizingly real, too real.

Neil had been seated nearest to me in my recollection, the first of my team to dissipate and mold into the abyssal black hole; the first to reach out to me and grab at me. The thoughts circulated and made my heart flutter in a cold fear. I'd faced no monsters such as them before, and there was no way for me to break away from the beings that were shaped by my own subconscious.

I couldn't escape a dream.

I sat up quickly. These thoughts were too morbid for me to delve into. I needed something to take my mind off of it, something to keep my hands busy. I shuddered to repress the gloating images my subconscious had produced. Making up my mind, I quickly stood, stooping down to pull my knife free from the wooden floor, and pushed at the door. It opened with a creak against the ropes hinging it to the rough wall beside it and Basil snored loudly behind me, tossing himself over to face the wall next to him.

The door opened into the dark rectangle that was the kitchen, no candlelight to illuminate its natural warmth. I made a U-turn, feeling for the door to the fresh produce room that was beside the room Basil and I shared. My hand caught the rough wood and I winced, quite sure that I had gotten a splinter. Nonetheless, I nudged the door open with my palm and a slight glitter of light filtered through the opening, pooling on the dark kitchen floor. I searched the room but there was no sign of Flea, I'd expected him to have returned by now, to be asleep next to the goat and its newborn kid. The candles oughtn't to be lit in here, I was certain I had already snuffed them out before going to bed earlier. The only signs of life were the slowly growing herbs and animals that breathed steadily as they slept, seemingly unbothered by the candlelight.

There were no windows in the ship (for the obvious fact that water would fill up the entire hull if there were) save for the ruby red panels of glass in the captain's quarters, so I was unable to estimate what time it could possibly be, whether it was still dark outside or if the morning sun had risen. I missed the daylight. The only times I could catch a glimpse of natural light was when it filtered through the checkered skylight in the galley, the sun's light dissipating as I was left alone to mop the floors after the crew had finished their last meal of the day.

I shrugged at the room's emptiness, deciding to get a head start on my duties for the next day. If I were lucky enough, I would be able to get a little free time to myself before having to sweep the kitchen out. Flea would return when he felt the need, and I was glad that I didn't have to be in his company; though I felt a strange pang of nerves at having to be alone again. I grabbed one of the two stools beneath a make-shift shelf that held up two small wooden boxes of dirt. Basil had told me that he was trying to experiment with a new breed of mushrooms, but that didn't make it any less rancid, seeing as mushrooms grew in only compost. I held my breath as I passed; setting the stool down in the darker corner next to a pile of what looked like greenish, orange-sized potatoes, though I knew better than to assume that it was actually edible.

Soon after my arrival, I learned that Basil was a man who liked to experiment. The discovery came upon me when I'd been asked to assist him with some sort of vegetable and bread soup. The contents of the soup were mainly mushrooms and something Basil called spitplant, which looked like a dried rat without its tail or any of its raggedy fur. Soon I'd been ordered around the kitchen with strict instructions including: "Be sure to skin the louse before you cut off its head, otherwise it won't come off your hands. Don't fry the marzipan, boil it and then make sure it sticks to the spoon when you add it to the ash and broth mix. The chickens need milking. Have you dug out the worms yet? Make sure those are juicy before you tear them in half. Jay, you need to put the mint into the broth _while_ stirring the goat's milk, otherwise it won't bubble. Can you reach that bucket of entrails on the second shelf? Be sure to add the cheese to the magpie skins after you butter the bowls with cresol."

He'd given me these commands and simultaneously prepared his memorized recipes, all the while humming that happy tune of his. At one point I had wondered how Athena would have reacted.

I chuckled at the memory. He was clearly very comfortable with feeding his concoctions to the crew, and they were clearly satisfied with having to consume it. Or perhaps it was because their rations were restricted to only two meals a day; and they were perfectly content with being able to eat _something_ after working at the oars for most of the morning and afternoon. I, on the other hand, had chosen to abstain from Basil's poisonous mixtures, knowing better now that I had seen what actually went into everyone's food. I couldn't help at being a tad curious as to why Jason had hired him as the cook in the first place. He must have known that Basil's sense of taste was somewhat eccentric.

I was actually considering inventing a nasty meal of my own and feeding it to my belligerent ancestor, when I heard a clamor on the other side of the door. Someone trudged on the groaning floorboard between the kitchen and galley that had caught me many times before. Sure enough, the door creaked slightly open and Flea poked his small head through the gap. He had a sneering expression as he searched the room, waggling his thin eyebrows every time his diminutive pupils shifted from one side to the other. His eyes drifted to where I sat, and he seemed almost dazed at the sight of me peeling the potato-pumpkinseed things, as if he thought he was hallucinating.

I waved at him slightly and he narrowed his eyes at me, slinking into the room and over to where I worked, silently shutting the door behind him. He'd picked up the other stool as he made his way to me, dropping it softly on the floor across from where I sat; and as he plopped himself onto it, contented himself by blankly staring at me while I worked.

I didn't know whether to stare back, or attempt conversation; so I just ignored him as best I could. I could still feel his eyes on me, it was disconcerting, and his sharp breathing kept getting louder and shallower – giving me the impression that he was starting to hyperventilate. Instead of thinking how I would try to calm him if he actually did show signs of a lung deficiency, I focused on the way my knife ran across the hard peel of whatever it was that I was peeling, slicing the tough skin away with what seemed like practiced ease.

We progressed like this for almost half an hour, him watching me with still-startled breaths. I lost concentration then, letting my thoughts drift off to other things. In truth, I missed my team and their chattiness; I missed the cool sea breeze that never wafted into the stuffy kitchen; but most of all, I missed my parents. The last time I had spoken to them was over a long weekend a few months ago, they had asked me how it was going with 'Space School', whether I had made any friends there, if I was comfortable living in another country for so long. My mother had asked all of the questions, commenting in length on every answer I provided. I remembered the exact words she had said about me being so far away; "You're mind is always in the sky, Jay. Now it seems as if the rest of you has followed."

I'd smirked at her words, knowing full well that she had been missing me since I'd left so unexpectedly. My father, as usual, had been despondent for the majority of my stay, only throwing in the occasional observation that he was glad about the scholarship, otherwise I wouldn't have gone at all. He was the polar opposite of my mother; where she was chatty and full of energy; he always kept to himself and slumped about. He wasn't necessarily a grumpy guy; it was just his melancholic temperament that dominated his personality. I thought back to one summer when he had-

"You're doing it wrong," Flea suddenly remarked.

The unexpected comment made me jolt with a sudden fright, my blade slipping from the hard peel and slicing into the soft flesh of my left ring finger. Flea suddenly sat bolt upright, peeped in a high voice, and hurried out of the door like a frightened cat. I swore at myself for getting distracted, dropping the vegetable and my knife, I quickly stuck my finger into my mouth to suck at the stream of blood that bubbled out from the thick cut atop the highest joint. It didn't seem as if the flow was going to relent soon.

Flea suddenly reappeared in the doorway, a small cooking bowl and several shreds of thick, yellow leaves in his hands. He looked at me for a moment with widened eyes as I sucked at my wound, as if he were afraid of me. Seeming to swallow a lump in his throat, he strode back to his stool and once again sat down opposite me, balancing the bowl in his lap as he held his hand out for mine. The gesture seemed almost too childlike, and I resisted for a second, "What're the leaves for?"

Something glinted in his eyes and he lowered his head, "It helps."

I slowly put my hand out, hesitating briefly as his pink-scrubbed hands gently folded over my palm. "Helps with what?" I asked.

He didn't look back up at me, "Infections and swelling." He sounded as if he were reciting something he'd learned long ago; taking a thin strip of leaf and tightening it just below the cut. He did it methodically, muttering under his breath as if he weren't concentrating on his task. "It was the obsidian," he said aloud after a moment, "that's what was so sharp. It can cut through anything."

I frowned, more stunned than upset. Those were the most words I'd ever gotten out of him in one conversation. He took my hand and lowered it into the bowl of water, the water stinging slightly against my open skin. Gently raising my hand out of the water, he used the soft leaves and tied it skillfully around the top of my finger. He peeked up at me when he did the last loop on the knot that kept the leaves tightened; the pressure prevented too much blood from seeping into the leaves and staining them.

When he was finished, he carefully set the small bowl aside and folded in on himself, staring up at me with big innocent eyes. It was as if he were expecting me to scold him for misbehaving, and. I looked at my hand, flexing my fingers. It didn't hurt that much anymore, I barely felt it even.

"You were doing it wrong," Flea said again, biting his lip and shrugging back into himself.

I regarded him coolly, "What was I doing wrong?"

He almost squeaked, "You have to peel it down. The knife must be towards you. You mustn't do it up and away." I blinked. That wasn't what my mother had told me when I helped her in the kitchen; I remembered her yelling at me about how dangerous it was to make the knife come toward you. He spoke again, "Basil says it's bad to do it that way."

I placed my hand on his shoulder, resisting the urge to pull away from the mottled dirt that rested there, and he flinched at my touch, closing his eyes and turning away from me as if he expected the worst. I tightened my grip reassuringly and he opened one of his eyes to look at me. "It's not your fault," I smiled softly.

He still didn't seem reassured, looking down at his hands to avoid my gaze. _He's just a kid, _I reminded myself. _How do you make kids feel better?_ I trashed the idea of giving him a hug – I doubt it would have been comfortable for either of us – and settled with giving him something to do. Carefully picking my knife up by its blade with my other hand, I offered the handle to him. He looked even more afraid than before.

"Here," I said, nudging it closer to him, "why don't you show me how to do it?"

He gulped audibly, but took the knife nonetheless, maneuvering his thin fingers to fit around the hilt more comfortably. I handed him one of the odd vegetables and he closed his small hand around it. The knife was poised just above the skin of his vegetative victim and he looked up at me nervously. I raised both of my eyebrows at him as a show of expectancy, and his shoulders visibly relaxed at my calm expression. He could see I wasn't going to exact revenge for the little slip up.

With an air of almost-profession, he began slicing the peel off of the – as I later learned – cageplant, one of Basil's half-bred experiments, almost seeming to enjoy himself as I watched in feigned interest. Soon the two of us had gotten into a competition of who could peel the most cageplants before the pile was depleted. Flea had gone to reach a smaller knife from one of the kitchen counters, claiming that he could have beaten me by only using his bare hands if he had to, and each of us had quickly acquired rapidly growing stacks of unpeeled vegetables, fabricating beside our stools like sponge soaking up water.

It was the first real distraction I'd had for days. I was having too much of a good time, almost missing the call from above that land was in sight.

…

_**Yay! Another chapter done! I know it's not really very action-packed, but I PROMISE the next one will have more excitement.**_

_**Please leave a review if you enjoyed the chapter; and as always, constructive criticism is welcome. I'd love to know what you think of Flea and Basil. ^^**_

_**Enjoy your day!**_

_**Peace and Love,**_

_**~Toymaker**_


	15. Chapter 14: Of Wards and Wastelands

_**Thank you to HoneyGoddess57 and Chantel for reviewing! You guys are AWEsome! =)**_

_**The question was:**_

_**If Odie can sneak Jay's bag in, why can't Jay escape or have the gang help him escape?**_

_**The answer is:**_

_**I have given it thought, and I'm truly glad you asked. **__1)__** Odie's been acting out of character and isn't thinking straight. **__2)__** Only Odie knows where the kitchen is (that will be explained later on) as it is well hidden. **__3)__** Basil and Flea are always in the kitchen, whether it be together or separately – one of them is always present and will be aware of Jay's absence. **__4) __**The ship's crew is very loyal and are all aware of Jay's punishment, so if he is seen escaping he will most likely be reported (the gang too, if they're seen helping him escape). **__5) __**Jay likes it in the kitchen, besides the fact that it makes him stir crazy, so I doubt he would want to leave. I hope that answers the question, I know it's a bit of a plot hole. Sorry about that ^^'**_

_**Okay, so the last few chapters have been a little dull, but what's a story without a bit of filler? I wrote this chapter, trying to amp it up a bit without revealing too much of the plot.**_

_**On a side note: what happened with Jason and the Amazonian… that wasn't even supposed to be in the story in the first place; but then I was faced with Jay not existing if Jason was with Theresa during the time… so I had to take care of it. I'm not proud of the way I handled it, and if you confront me about it I will cringe at the memory and pretend nothing happened. It was just like pulling off a band aid – do it fast and get it over with. So this is my way of apologising to anyone I've offended with my excuse to getting mythology to run its course.**_

_**I'll shut up now.**_

_**Please enjoy! ^^  
><strong>_

…

_**Chapter 14**_

_**Of Wards and Wastelands**_

_The Argonauts soon landed among the Doliones, a thriving city of warriors, who welcomed them. They celebrated and had feasts as they bonded and formed firm friendships. Their king was King Cyzicus, a very wise man and noble warrior. He and Jason became friends, and Cyzicus told the Argonauts what lay ahead of them beyond Bear Mountain, stories of how they defeated the great giants that lived within them, stories of the ways that the men lived happy lives on the islands…_

My mother's voice trailed off in my mind, echoing into the dreary silence of the room as I recalled the story she had told me of King Cyzicus and how he had helped the Argonauts. I'd only been five or six at the time, but I could remember almost every word she had said, every small gesture of her thin hands as she progressed, the look she got in her eyes when she immersed herself in the tales of a younger Greece. She was a great story teller my mother, always keeping me in suspense about how the story would end, whether the hero would save the day and get the girl; or if he would end up with his head chopped off after infuriating one of the Olympians.

It had been an escape from the normalcy of everyday life; a journey to a world with new places to explore, of fantastical creatures and great heroes that could do anything with the help of their gracious and unpredictable deities. It was a way to make the impossible feel real, make me believe that there was more out there than a boring job and a settled home in the country. It was a key to unlocking long-hidden adventure, things others only put to fairy-tales and long-lost legends…

But at that moment; I would have given anything to wake up in my bed back home, to realize that this had all been a dream caused by too much sugar in my hot chocolate and a gripping story before bed.

A gut feeling told me that I was right in assuming that we had landed among the Doliones, and that we would be approaching the islands within the hour. A glance to my left told me that Flea was still fast asleep on top of a small pile of hay in the goats' pen, curling himself up as he dreamed. We'd been in the fresh produce room for, I guessed, about six hours already, all of the cageplants already peeled and stewing in the barrel of water just beyond the open door.

From the long hours I'd spent challenging the boy to a Peeling War, I had come to enjoy his presence more, forgetting the awkward impression I had gotten from him beforehand. In a sense, I believed he enjoyed himself too, doubting that he'd had much fun just skulking about like a tired ghost. His chalky skin gave me leeway to assume that he didn't get out onto the deck much, so he probably didn't have many friends to pay any visits to if he ever would venture into the sunlight. His shoulders would slump often, reminding me of the way Theresa's had drooped when she looked as lonely as he did; but he would catch himself and straighten them into a stiff line before I could muster any question as to whether or not he was okay.

The boy had shared some of his stories with me, telling me of little bits and pieces fathomed in his childhood. He was Basil's nephew, he'd told me with a clear absence of pride. His parents had died in a field fire while attending their flocks and he'd been left in his uncle's care. Basil had never really warmed up to him, Flea had suspected that it was because he fought a lot with his father when they were younger, and never really accepted Flea as his nephew, let alone as a son. He didn't want to reveal much, so I didn't pry any further. The only other thing he had told me was that he didn't talk to Theresa very often, "She's like my sister, but Basil always looked after more than me because she's a girl. She was always friendly to me, but I never got to spend any time with her." After saying this, he sulked; clearly not in the mood to elaborate on his and Theresa's childhood with Basil as their 'father'.

As he slept, he hugged the goat and its kid close to him – the animals didn't seem to mind much – a hint of a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. I wanted to chuckle, but the scuffs of shoes and stampeding herds of footsteps above me reminded me that the crew was going onto land – and that I wasn't permitted to follow. A sudden forward jolt told me that the fenders beneath the hull of the boat had hit something, whether it was sand or rock I didn't know, either way the Argo had come to a slow decease in acceleration. The chains holding up the main anchor began to whir; they were loud enough for me to hear the rust grinding them from where I was, and I knew that the other anchors had been dropped as well, signalling that the crew was preparing the long boats to venture out and land on the island.

I leaned back into the corner, recklessly banging the back of my head against the hard wooden wall with an exasperated aggravation. It was frustrating, not knowing what was going on, only having bedtime stories and a mindful of invented images to fuel any information about the occurrences in my surroundings. More than before, I felt trapped, alone, freakishly destitute and abandoned… and it had all been my own fault. Never in my life had I looked at myself and felt so small, so pathetic and so unbelievably resource-less.

The large frame of Basil moved about the kitchen just beyond, still humming his song to himself. He'd awoken only two hours ago, trying and failing to hide that he was glad he didn't have to help peel any of the cageplants. He stood by his bubbling pot above the fire, his shape silhouetted by the bright tongues of flame, engrossed with his newest concoctions.

I looked down at my hands, slightly depressed at having to hear his happy humming when I felt this way. My finger was still tightly plastered with yellow-green leaves, only a little blood flowering through the heavy wrapping that mummified the calloused digit. I knew it wasn't very good to keep the blood from flowing to my finger, but I just didn't have the heart to unwrap Flea's handiwork. He had done it out of fear at first, fear of a punishment; but later I had realized that he had done it out of concern as well. Besides, I felt better at not having to feel that the cut was actually there.

In a way, I was touched, glad that he had warmed up to me with just a trusting blink and a kind gesture, and that I had someone else other than a scarred wall to talk to now. He was just a kid, but he had character; and I admired that he'd been able to hold his own for so long. There was no doubt that he had a bright, burning fire in him, a need to prove himself; but he was so small and innocent. He almost seemed somewhat sad and prone to making himself seem a little more invisible as time progressed, as if he needed someone to just look at him, and actually _see_ him, instead of casting him off and adjoining him to a room by making him blend in as a piece of lacklustre furniture. It was unreal in a sense, someone so young being so ill-treated by literally everyone he knew.

I didn't plan to treat him like that.

"Jay?" the voice dragged me out of my thoughts and I started. Basil stood in the doorway, holding a bowl in the crook of his arm and stirring its contents with a large, flat spoon. He smiled at me warmly, and in that moment I wondered if he ever looked at Flea with that expression, that look of understanding. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

I shrugged and he glowered at me. I'd been convinced that Basil didn't actually know that he snored so loudly, as he'd never made much or even any reference to it. His look was still one of calm reproachfulness, "Really, now. What kind of warden would I be if I let you fall all over yourself with fatigue? I'm sure the captain wants me to keep you all energetic and healthy."

I resisted the urge to snort; Basil was one of those people who found it hard to point out a flaw in almost anyone's character, which had me in puzzlement over Flea's account of the cook. "I think the captain would rather have me whipped until I was only dust on the floor. Not have me padded and pampered."

Basil gave me a fluttering look, "The only thing I whip is mulch-cream." I held back my question as to what that was; not exactly sure I wanted to know the answer. He turned back to the kitchen with a decisive smirk, walking slowly while stirring what was in his bowl, "I'm a cook, not a jailer. I suggest you get some sleep, Jay. There won't be much going on in here that you'll need to stay awake for."

I sat back. He was right… there was nothing to stay awake for.

…

"Jay. _Jay_!" someone hissed over me. "Wake _up_!"

I started awake, immediately sitting up and gripping a wide-eyed Flea by his sleeves. His face was paler than usual, a fresh sheet of sweat glazing over his features and dripping into his big nervous eyes. I was only faintly aware of how dark it was, the small room only lit by the dying embers of the flames in the kitchen beyond. The air seemed almost paled around me.

"What is it?" I demanded fiercely. "What's the matter?"

"Shhh!" Flea whispered fiercely. I could feel his heart hammering through his small chest where my hands clenched his sordid clothes. I suddenly realised just how thin he was. "Giants!"

I let him go, pushing myself onto my feet and doing my best to keep my voice low, "What? Where?"

"Giants!" he said again, more forcibly this time. "In the pantry!"

I swallowed, his terror was starting to infuse upon me and I had to do my best to shake it off. "Are you sure?" He nodded viciously, pulling at me in fear. "How do you know they're in the pantry?" I questioned, moving to the open door.

"I saw them," he squeaked, "they came on the boat. They're all over the deck."

I stopped, turning back to get my sword from my satchel between my bed and the wall. The blade slid out of its handle and gleamed, even in the little light that there was. "How many?"

"I don't know." He looked ashen, "I ran when I saw them."

I moved to the door again, Flea falling into step just behind me. "Where's Basil? Did you see him?" my tone became almost hard, and I had to gentle it with some effort. "Was he on the deck with you?"

"I wasn't on the deck!" he shouted softly. "I was in the galley… and I don't _know_ where Basil is."

I stopped, "You were in the galley? Did they come down to the-"

"No!" he shouted, "I saw them through the skylight." I considered him for a moment, he was shaking where he stood, fiddling with his fingers. Making up my mind, I walked to the archway that separated the kitchen from the galley, determined to make it up to the deck and beat the dickens out of any giants I encountered. I wanted to steady my giddy nerves. "Stop! You can't go that way!" he shouted at me again.

I turned to him, feeling my expression contort into an annoyed furrow, "Why not?"

"They'll see you!" his whisper was urgent. Flea took hold of my free hand and pulled me with him into the dark fresh produce room. I reluctantly followed as he spoke, "Go this way, they won't notice you then."

He clambered over the small fence that marked the goat's pen, dropping over to the other side with a clap of his bare feet. The goat didn't seem startled, too used to his presence to even bother getting up from its corner. I stood just outside the fence and watched as he shoved a small litter of hay to the side. With one fluid, practised motion, he lifted away part of the floor of the pen. The goat was equally as un-startled by this as I was rooted to the floor with surprise. "How long has _that_ been there?"

Flea ignored me, instead jumping into the dark hole he'd made and beckoning me to follow. Hastily, I scrambled over the small fence and sunk down into the dark square after him. The drop was longer than I'd expected it to be, my feet singing in startled pain after they hit the ground. I was only aware of Flea after he'd caught my hand again, settling into a brisk run and guiding me through the warren of dark wooden corridors. "This goes up to the food store at the stern of the ship," he said in answer to my silence. "I use these tunnels to get things for Basil without other people getting in my way."

I didn't really know how to respond to that. His statement held more than a few answers to the questions I'd been afraid to ask him before, and I doubt he sought a reply to his words. Whatever the case was, I'd decided that I needed to have a word with him about it later.

Lost in thought, I'd stubbed my toe against the corner wall of a particularly sharp turn and swore. Flea cautiously shushed my cries and let go of my hand, coming to a furtive halt before me. My toe felt numb where it had hit the hollow wall and I did my best to ignore it.

"Reach up," the boy commanded, "So you can lift up the cover."

I did as he asked, groping for the loose tile of squared wood and lifting it free from its heavy hold. Light flickered through the slit of open air and I promptly dropped it into place, swearing again timidly. My mother would have beaten me over the head with the morning newspaper if she'd heard the words I'd just said, but Flea paid no heed. "What's wrong?" he asked quickly. "Why did you drop it?"

I quickly came up with an excuse. "Splinter." I couldn't see his face, but I was quite sure he was giving me a redressing look, as if he planned to go up there himself. In truth, I had forgotten how _huge_ a giant actually was, and I needed a few seconds to gather my bearings. A brown foot the size of a man's head had invaded my line of sight; but from what I could see, there were at least four of them, each varying in size and ethnicity – if giants even had ethnicity.

I took a sharp breath and stood straight, lightly pressing the plank of wood up to get a bright sliver of light filtering through into my eyes. I stood on the very tips of my toes to see through the crack in the floor. I waited for my eyes to adjust, absently fathoming that the light was coming in through the pantry's open doorway. The pantry was high-ceilinged, allowing for the gargantuan length of the beasts as well as the vast shelves of dried food. Unlike the fresh produce room, nothing here seemed like it had ever actually been _alive_. Most of it was just barrels and kegs; some parts held a herding of wheat and dehydrated fruit, other parts held what looked like dead cows and other animals. No wonder Atlanta had wanted to get out of here as fast as possible, the smell was ghastly; but seemingly, that was what had attracted the brutes in the first place.

After a long look at the beasts themselves, I discovered that the guttural roaring they all produced was in fact some sort of boorish language. They spoke and laughed in low grumbles, and as soon as the brown giant – the smallest of the bunch – moved his large foot with a reverberating stomp, I could see that they were plucking the rotting animals that hung from the ceiling from their rusty hooks like a person would pluck grapes from a tangled vine.

I lowered myself back down into the dark tunnel, softly closing the slated board of wood behind me. I felt strangely calm, as if my fluttering heartbeat belonged to someone else; and I recognised the feeling immediately: Leader Mode.

It was good to be back.

"Jay? What are we going t-"

I shushed Flea's sudden inquisitive frightfulness by clamping my hand over his mouth. I needed to think, to remember… what was it that my mother had told me about the Doliones? I tried to ignore the grinding floorboards above me as the giants walked to and fro, and instead focused on the point of my sword, where light still inexplicably glinted off its edge. _Cyzicus told the Argonauts of what lay ahead of them beyond Bear Mountain, stories of how they defeated the great giants that lived within them…_

I clutched my sword tighter, feeling my fisted hand pulling at the tendons in my fingers. There was something else, more theatrical than just the giants' existence. _While the Argonauts were with the king on the island, some of the giants found their way through the water and came aboard the ship. They pillaged until there were only scraps left, but the few men who were left to guard the ship quickly fought back, under the lead of Hercules..._

Hercules!

I took in a sharp breath and grabbed Flea by the top of his tunic, spinning him around, lifting him off of his feet and holding his face up to mine. "Flea," I whispered fiercely, doing my best not to spit in his face, "You have to listen to me carefully. Do you know where the crew's officials' chambers are?" He nodded slowly, and again I could feel his heart quivering through his clothes. "You have to find Hercules; tell him there are giants aboard and he has to come to the food store immediately. Tell him to bring everyone aboard the ship that either of you come across as well. We're going to need his help."

I set him down and he quaked where he stood. "What about you?" he asked, a shiver in his voice.

"Forget about me. This is important. You have to hurry." My voice was thin and clipped as I ordered him on. He obeyed without another word and scuttled off into the darkness, not a single glance flicking back to where I stood. Though I wouldn't have known if he did look back, the darkness had consumed him fully and his _patting_ bare feet receded as he ran further and further away from me.

I hoped he would come back soon.

…

Signs of my inhabitancy in the younger days of Greece were clear. My nails were long, their crescents crusted with dirt and food; my hair had grown several inches, curling up at the back and along the sides from the humidity; a substantial amount of stubble had begun to flower across my chin and up my jaw line, even grating down the upper parts of my neck; and I'd upheld a gloriously vivid display as to why one needed to train more often than not.

My calves and upper legs were ablaze with a furious fire, screaming at me for crouching so low and demanding from them swiftness and flexibility. I braced myself and, with skilful ease, flung my body across the floor. I skittered slightly to gain proper footing. The giant turned and swung at me again, its cronies not far behind. I grabbed for my Xyphos that had slipped from my sweaty fingers only a moment before. After I'd stabbed one of its pumpkin-sized toes, the brown giant had tossed it away as casually as one would a toothpick

His yowl of surprise had alerted the other, much larger, giants to my presence; and soon a chase had ensued. They were fast, mostly due to their elongated legs; but I was more nimble and easily slipped by them with a few quick strides. My reflexes were a little too rusty, and a yellow-green giant had managed to knock me to the side with a hard blow to my stomach. Spluttering, I reached helplessly for my sword; only to be grabbed by my leg and swung into the nearest shelf of dried mustard-seeds and berries.

Fruits and nuts of various sizes toppled over me, cascading and shooting from their resting places across the floor, all of them as hard as marbles. My body was sprawled beneath a broken bit of shelf, aching all over. I almost believed I would have vomited had I not been too dazed to know up from down. The two largest giants, one a midnight blue and the other a silvery white, seemed only to be watching in amusement, not feeling any inclination to assist their smaller fellows.

The brown one suddenly came at me with its big filthy hands outstretched, reminding me of a nasty dog-catcher going after a small puppy. I kicked out, the fruits on top of me splaying through the air. They only succeeded in travelling a few feet and rolled across the floor, the monster didn't seem to notice. It came closer still and I stood quickly, wobbling only slightly, sending another wave of marble-like fruit spattering across the floor as I tried to gain my balance. The brown beast stopped suddenly. Its hands waved like helicopter blades beside it. It was losing its balance on the hardened produce beneath its feet, and clattered to the floor with a harsh _thud_, seemingly unconscious.

The other three paused midway through their laughter in surprise, a sudden simultaneous bellow rising angrily from all of their throats. I took advantage of their momentary distraction and threw myself across the floor once more, grabbing hold of my sword as I skidded. Its cool hilt gave me a surge of breathless confidence and I swallowed down my queasiness. With a backwards glance, I raced through the open doorway; my breath hitching partway when I scrambled up to the deck. The heavy footfalls followed after me as I gained momentum.

I raced around a corner and stopped beside the row of small cabins. I had to catch my breath, quite sure that a large bruise had formed over my ribcage where the yellowish giant had hit me. I clutched my chest, the dull ache of my winded lungs burning in my throat as I tried to steady my breathing. My face was reddening with effort when I squeezed my eyes shut, and I had to hold on to my knees to regain my composure.

When was the last time I'd been so breathless?

I huffed through my burning throat and opened my eyes. I was met with a peculiar sight: a large blue fist was curling slowly around my ankles; and at the same time that I gathered my wits about me enough to comprehend what was happening, I'd involuntarily pitched forwards, my face colliding with the solid wood of the deck with a painful _thwack_.

The blue giant removed his hand from my lower legs and I tossed myself over to look up, just in time to roll away from the two large fists of the white one as they came crashing down where I'd lain only two seconds before, splintering the bleached planks beneath it. I was only slightly aware that that could very well have been my own skeleton that would have been severed had I not moved away. My main focus, however, was finding my sword that had yet again escaped my sweaty grasp.

It lay not a meter away, lodged cantankerously into the side of the ship. I immediately reached for it, but the giants were faster; the white one had grabbed at me when I sprang and was now uncomfortably pinning me ,face-down, to the floor with one hand. One of my arms was bent gauchely between my back and its enormous palm.

My first instinct was to bite at its fat fingers, but I quickly reconsidered. One thing I remembered about giants was that they had atypically thick skin and their blood was poisonous if it got into your body – an indiscriminate product of their evolution; so I was unlikely to be much of a threat with just my teeth. The two creatures were laughing now, as if they had just caught a really bad joke. I looked up at them from the corners of my eyes.

They were peering down at me with bright yellow irises, sitting back on their haunches and smiling as I struggled to escape from beneath their gazes. These giants were much bigger than the ones I'd dealt with before, a lot more cunning too. For a split-second I wondered where the smaller yellow one had disappeared to.

The blue giant inched closer and I wriggled more as it opened its ogre-like mouth. Its breath was inconceivably horrid; and its saliva-sodden teeth jutted out at awkward angles, some of them stumped like ingrown tusks. I kicked out pathetically beneath my trap and a sudden, high pitched whistle flew through the air.

Both giants perked up at the sound, their short, floppy ears pointing skyward when the noise shrieked past again. I could only look forward, at the source of the sound, and I wasn't disappointed by what I saw. Hercules came charging around a sharp corner at an incredible rate, a long, deadly-pointed spear in his hands. The troll-like white one that held me down loosed its hold and only had enough time to stand and roar before the tip of the spear went right through its chunky leg. Both of the monsters stood stock still for half a second and blinked.

Then the howling started, the two monsters furious. At the same time, a small group of men bustled around the opposite corner and the blue giant was whacked harshly upside the head with one of the ship's oars. Hordes of armed men began pouncing on it as it fell to the floor. The white giant made to attack, but Hercules swiftly pulled the spear right out of its leg and it staggered back. Using the spear as a vaulting pole, Hercules soared into the air and aimed a blunt kick that hit the giant beneath its wide mandible. The brute lurched backwards and promptly fell down to its backside, grabbing at his jaw in pain.

I struggled to my feet, my chest in agony, and hurried as fast as I could to retrieve my sword. I slipped in a pond of the white giant's blackish blood, falling back onto my shoulder and groaning. I didn't have enough energy to try and get back up again.

The blue giant had fallen flat across the floor, a welt forming where it had been hit with the oar and several lacerations in the rest of its grainy skin leaked the same dark fluid. The bit of the crew that had been left to guard the ship came forward, ganging up on the smaller white giant; and, sensing it was outmatched, it gave a small yelp and catapulted itself over the side of the ship, sending up a lengthy shower of seawater that washed up over me and half of the guards as it swam away toward the island. The giant left a stocky trail of black blood from its wounded leg on the deck, some of it seeping into the cracks of the wood its large fist had splintered earlier.

Above the clatter and chaos, Flea's small voice was only just discernable, "There are two more still in the pantry!" At this statement, the flurry of people hurtled off with a menacing cry in the direction I had first come from, waving their provisional weapons ahead of them as they ran.

Yanking my sword from its wooden prison and using it as a lever to get myself back onto my feet, I made to follow; but fell back under a sudden wave of nausea. I gripped the side of the boat as Flea came bounding over to me, trying to support me before I collapsed again. The colossal body of the unconscious navy giant made the narrow aisle between the ship's edge and the row of cabins seem almost infinitesimal, and I marvelled at how there was still room to breathe. Hercules coolly sauntered over to where the body lay, and, with seemingly little effort, picked it up from off the ground and tossed it over the side.

He clapped the invisible dust off of his big hands and came up to me and Flea with a smile. He laughed and ruffled Flea's hair, unbothered by the grime that clung to his dark locks. The boy clearly didn't enjoy it but bared it all the same as Hercules spoke in his deep voice, "Nice work, it's a good thing you saw those things before they could actually hurt anyone…"

He glanced at me when I tried and failed to stand upright, one of my hands still on Flea's small shoulder. "Well, anyone _else_." He took his hand from Flea's hair and turned to me fully. "Jay, right?" he asked. I nodded and he smiled more. "It seems to me you've got a bit of a knack for getting yourself into trouble, Jay. Wasn't it you that Theseus threw into the kitchen a little while back?"

I attempted a shaky smile, "Yes, actually. But with all due respect, I think it's the trouble that finds me."

He smirked, "For what it's worth, I thought it was brave of you to lead those things into the open – stupid, but brave."

I hiccoughed a laugh and fell back again, this time putting all of my weight on Flea. The boy didn't protest and reached out his other hand to try and steady me. I felt too dizzy to thank him. Hercules whistled low, "You got a bit of nasty bruising. How hard did that thing hit you?" he jerked his thumb in the direction of the island.

"Apparently not hard enough," said a curt, feminine voice.

Theresa.

All three of us whipped our heads around to look at her. She stood with her hands on her hips in that way that she always did, but this time she didn't look happy. With two quick strides, she practically stood under my nose. I scrambled backwards against the bulwark to try and get away. The look in her eyes gave me the impression that she wanted to slap me. She glared at Hercules, daring him to protest at our proximity, but he only shrugged. Then she turned to Flea, her voice softening, "Flea, go fetch the bucket and cloth… and bring an apple too."

I gave her a quizzical look, but she paid me no heed. Flea looked up at me, his eyes questioning: _Is it okay?_ I nodded and he let me go gently, turning to run back to the kitchen. I reached for the banister to steady myself, but Theresa was ahead of me and grabbed my arm. She draped it over her shoulders and put her other hand around my abdomen, forcing me to move forward. Hercules only watched as she made me sit with my back to the wall of one of the smaller cabins.

She didn't look at me once.

Flea returned with the bucket in one hand, the cloth hanging over the side, and a big red apple in the other. His tongue stuck out of his mouth as he tried not to spill any of the water over himself. Theresa smiled at him and took the apple, holding it down to me. "Here," she said tersely.

For the first time in two weeks, I broke my silence, "What?"

She held it out more insistently, almost growling, "Take it." It wasn't a question, and I did as she asked.

Hercules had his arms folded over his broad chest, "What's the bucket for?"

Theresa sniffed, took the bucket from Flea, and rammed it into Hercules' chest indignantly. He held it in both of his hands and stared into the slopping water before giving her a confused look. Theresa pointed to the puddles of giant's blood on the deck behind Hercules. "You make the mess," she puffed, "you clean it up."

He simply looked at her, stunned; even Flea had his mouth open in disbelief. Did she really just give Hercules an order? With what looked like a pout, he swung the cloth over his shoulder and turned on his heel, walking to where the grotesque liquid obscured the wood. Theresa stared after him for a second before looking down at me again. "I didn't poison the apple, Jay."

I jumped, realizing that I still held the bright red fruit in my hand. "W-what do you want me to do with it?"

"Well," she responded, "normally you put it in your mouth and chew. But maybe that's just me."

I was flabbergasted, "Why?"

Theresa smirked, "You've been living with Basil, and now you know what goes into the food. So I doubt you've eaten much recently, you look thin." She looked less angry now, but still had her arms folded. "You didn't ingest any of the blood, did you?"

I shook my head and took a bite from the apple. "Why? Did you want me to?"

At this she kneeled down beside me and flicked my nose with her thin index finger. "Very funny, Jay. If I were you, I'd clean that up." She put a finger to her own nose.

Unsure, I felt above my upper lip and brought my hand away bloody. With a shock I realized that I could taste it too, it was hot and coppery in my mouth. I wanted to swear again, but held myself back. I couldn't feel anything. My face was too numb after hitting the deck that I wasn't sure whether my nose was broken. "Ouch?"

Theresa's lip quirked up at the side, "Indeed. How's your chest?"

I coughed, "Like fire, actually."

"Serves you right." She looked at me disapprovingly, "You shouldn't have gone blindly charging into a fight like that. If Flea hadn't called out to us then we couldn't have saved your-"

I spat the chunks of chewed apple out of my mouth, "What! You fought with us?"

Theresa only glared, "Of course I did; and I had a particularly mean encounter with a big yellow one." I observed her quickly, her skin was red from what looked like friction burn, drops of black blood polished a few of her locks, and she was all sweaty. "There were more than a dozen of them on board," she went on, "and some people were caught off their guard and they had their... they were... Theseus, he was…"

She trailed off and her face contorted into one of stony anguish. I looked at her in disbelief; she was suppressing a sob, her eyes becoming watery. But just as quickly, she composed herself again and looked away to where Hercules was working. Theseus had what? My mind jumped to the quickest conclusion, but I didn't want to believe it.

Was Theseus… dead?

I put my hand on Theresa's shoulder and she looked at me from the corner of her eye, not turning to face me completely. "Does… does Hercules know?" The way he had been going on before had me believe that nothing extensively bad had happened, and he was one of Theseus' best friends.

She shook her head slowly and I put my hand to her cheek, gently making her turn to face me. Her eyes looked dismayed. "Theresa, are you-"

"And just _what_ is going on here?"

Both of us jumped at the vociferous voice, and I took my hand from Theresa's shoulder. Jason stood there, his nostrils flaring. He'd come around the corner when we weren't looking, the crew must've returned from the island to investigate the commotion. Sensing the captain's presence, Hercules quickly stood and threw his cloth overboard, adding an innocent whistle and acting as if he hadn't just been cleaning the deck under his fiancée's orders. Flea had somehow slipped away already, probably back to the kitchen.

"Theresa, _get up_." His tone was icy, and Theresa clearly wasn't happy. Nevertheless she obeyed, and I tried to stand up too. A sharp, stabbing pain in my side told me that it was a bad idea and I clenched my teeth to stop from crying out, immediately sliding back against the wall and wincing when I hit the ground again.

"What's going on?" Jason asked again in a commanding voice, "And what are you doing out of the kitchen?" he pointed the last question to me. Theresa stepped in front of him when he tried to march over to me. "_Move!_" he sounded vicious.

"No!" she shot back. "You leave him alone, Jason. He hasn't done anything wrong."

"Theresa, not now," he said. "We can talk about this later. Get out of the way, will you?" She didn't budge and his tone became icier. "For the love of- Theresa, he's not some stray puppy that needs your protection! He doesn't even deserve to-"

"She's right, Jason." Hercules spoke for the first time, coming up and standing next to Jason with his arms folded. "The kid didn't do anything wrong. If anything, he saved most of us."

"Oh really?" Jason countered, "And I suppose that rids him of all his guilt?"

"_Yes_," Theresa snarled, moving out of his way and walking back to me. "You're being perfectly horrid, Jason." She pulled me gently to my feet, putting an arm around my chest to lift me. She didn't move after we were standing. "His previous actions may have been inexcusable; but given the circumstances…" she looked up at my face with a small frown, "I think you ought to reconsider his punishment."

Jason scowled at her, and then at me. Then, surprisingly, after a minute of silent reflection, he laughed. Theresa, Hercules and I were too stunned to say anything as he cackled on. After a while he looked at me, "Seeing as you're being so commended by my second commanders, I'll be lenient." He looked at Hercules, "Tell the cook that Jay will now be allowed to leave the kitchen if that is what he desires. Then come meet me in my stateroom with a damage report."

He turned to leave, "and Jay…"

"Yes, Captain?" I answered weakly.

"I'll need to have a word with you. I will come find you at sundown." He paused, "And Jay, please… don't call me Captain."

…

_**So that was a long chapter. I hope it suffices as I won't be active on this sight for a while. Whoop! Looking forward to crossing countries tomorrow; and I hear it's extremely cold up in Canada at the moment… is it that bad?**_

_**Please review? Feedback makes me smile… and I need to smile a little.**_


	16. Chapter 15: Queen Mab hath been with You

_**Tada! I've managed an update!**_

_**I feel quite proud of the last chapter after reading the positive feedback from everyone. =D Happy dance! So thank you to my reviewers:**_

_**HoneyGoddess57, classofthetitans711, Queen of Games, Tinian I'att, Neonz, shiney32 and Emma.**_

_**It really means a lot to hear such good things from everyone. All those reviews give me that mushy warm feeling that I only get from good coffee. ^.^ Sorry if I didn't reply to your reviews! I had a lot on my plate. But I'm sending everybody a HUGE hug because I love you!**_

_**So please enjoy this next chapter. Hopefully I'm not completely out of practice…**_

…

_Chapter 15_

_I See Queen Mab hath Been with You_

"Ouch!"

"Stop squirming so much! You're worse than Neil, honestly."

"I wouldn't squirm at all if you could actually aim!"

"Excuse me, but who's the one holding the syringe filled with a heavy dose of anesthetic?"

"The same person using me for close-range target practice."

"Funny; now shut up and hold still!"

"You really don't need to be so- ow!"

Odie stuck the point of the needle straight into my rib cage, not even flinching as he pressed the plunger down so that a fraction of the clear liquid squirted into my bruised skin. I was sitting on the straw divan in the room beside the kitchen in my bright red boxers, my tunic lying somewhere on the floor beside Odie. He was kneeling on the wooden planks beside the small bed, the syringe in his white-latex-gloved hand, his tongue flicked up against his upper lip in concentration.

I had my one arm raised up over my head for him to have ample area to work with. Theresa and Hercules had helped me down to the kitchen, leaving me in my room to get some rest. Not a moment later, Flea entered the room with a wide-eyed Odie at his side. The boy promptly fled the scene after Odie let out a low whistle at my appearance; clearly not intending to stay. Odie told me that Flea came to find him, because he knew that he was friends with me and could possibly offer some sort of help.

I'd gotten a brief greeting and a vague report on how he was hanging about in the crow's nest when he noticed the giants boarding the ship. When asked about his activities in the crow's nest, he only answered with a cough and a low mumble that was completely indiscernible. He'd come in with his satchel strapped over his chest protectively, and I later learned why. The bag was filled with medical supplies and hard cases containing who-knew-what. They all had clear labels tattooed onto them, mostly containing either a small code or a complicated mess of letters and dashes. The containers varied in color, and squished to the side was his smaller laptop, a change of clothes, and a tiny set that held a toothbrush and a nearly empty tube of toothpaste.

You couldn't say the guy didn't think ahead.

He removed the needlepoint from my abdomen and quickly switched the tip with a new one, neatly replacing it inside its blackish container. A small bead of red formed where he'd been working and started trailing down my side. I frowned at the bud of color.

"Now you're inflicting wounds? I think you need to work on your people skills, Odie."

Odie ignored this and continued packing his bag. "Don't move around too much, I only gave you a little so that you could bear all of that bruising. I'm not saying it won't hurt anymore, but it was laced with enough sedatives to make you feel a bit drowsy, and it'll probably end up knocking you out soon."

I winced a little when I lowered my arm; my muscles still weren't up to co-operating with me. All the blood on my face had been cleaned off, and I knew for a fact that I had broken my nose when my face hit the deck; but I bent it back into place as I'd done many times before and tried to bear the pain. That didn't mean that it wasn't still excruciatingly painful. "So where did you learn all of this stuff?" I asked, looking over at Odie, genuinely curious.

He had his back to me, but I didn't miss the slight tightening of his shoulders before he answered coolly, "My dad was a paramedic. I picked up some stuff from him when he took me to work with him. Mostly I just hung around the emergency room; the nurses would let me watch how they worked when the cases weren't too gory."

I didn't miss the past tense. "You wanted to be a paramedic too?"

He shook his head and turned back to me, his gaze heavy. I still wasn't accustomed to seeing Odie without his glasses. It made him look older… wiser. "Nah, I don't really have the right build for that kind of thing."

The corner of my mouth quirked up, "Oh, I get it… you wanted to be a nurse." Odie threw my tunic at me and I was hit full on in the face. I pulled it off and grinned at him as he strapped his satchel back over his shoulder. "You're leaving already? I thought you were going to minister angelically to my every whim as I lay incapacitated on my sickbed." I fell back onto the mattress with a dramatic sigh.

"If you wanted me to make that your _death_bed instead, then that could be easily arranged." Odie said, folding his arms at my theatrics.

"And then I would come back and be your personal poltergeist," I said simply.

Odie smiled and raised his eyebrow quizzically, "Good, I could use a butler."

I laughed sleepily, feeling the beginnings of a tiny cloud enveloping my brain and making it fuzzy around the corners. "You didn't see the others around while you were in the crow's nest, did you?" I asked.

Odie shook his shaggy head, "Only Theresa, the rest of the gang went onto the island with the crew to avoid too much suspicion, and to get a little more room to run around in. I think they were getting stir-crazy on the ship."

"Seriously, Odie," I said, "What were you doing in the crow's nest?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, blinking rapidly and staring off into space as he spoke. "It's a great place to hide, and you get a great view of everything. It's shaded somewhat and people don't generally wander into that direction; plus my laptop is charged by solar energy – courtesy of Hermes. It's just a way for me to keep tabs on everything that' going on up on the deck, you know? In case anything goes wrong."

I snorted, "I thought I was supposed to be the paranoid one."

He ignored this, "We need to start talking strategies, Jay."

I yawned and tried to focus on the conversation, "What? What do you mean?"

He rubbed his eyes. "Okay, the thing is… you're not focusing on the right things, Jay." I blinked in confusion and he took a deep breath, "Have you noticed how you've been blindly stumbling into situations without thinking anything through? There could have been dozens of ways for you to handle the past events, but lately it seems like you've lost your common sense. I don't want to seem like I'm being a jerk or anything; but seriously, you have to snap out of the funk that's clouded your head."

His tone was serious, and I knew he meant business. I suppose he was right, even if the words did hurt a little… but something was nagging at the back of my brain, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. I pushed the feeling away, knowing I was already swinging out of consciousness. Now wasn't the time for puzzles – I had to concentrate.

"Odie, I-"

He cut me off, "No, Jay. Now's not the time for this." He laughed, "You're going to pass out at any second." That seemed to be the end of the conversation. Odie ran a hand through his wild curls and made his way out of the room, swinging the door shut behind him as he went. He didn't look back.

I let out a tiny huff, "Goodbye to you, too." The words weren't directed at anyone in particular, there was a point where I wasn't even sure I'd said them out loud in the first place. I stretched out across my mattress, my muscles singing in pain at the lugubrious movement. I was uncomfortable, not because of the pain – I was used to that, but because Odie had been the first to really point out what I was missing.

Something was wrong with me lately.

Sudden wisps of a lingering unease seemed to stream from almost every corner of my brain, as if it weren't my fatigue that was starting to cloud my senses.

It was like my own mind was trying desperately to withhold something detrimental from my own clawing confusion.

…

Jason threw back his head and laughed, actually laughed, at my cynicism. He'd been sitting across from me on Basil's straw mattress, giving me only a passive expression to try and figure out how he was regarding me at that moment. When the tense silence had been interrupted by his business-like attitude, I'd done everything possible not to wince at the way he'd pointed out every one of my faults during my disastrous exploits so bluntly. He did it almost methodically, as if he were simply handing an oral report detailing the many failures of one of his lackeys. He was, after all, a commanding officer; it was just duty, tradition almost, to try and better someone of lower rank with criticisms that were occasionally laced with explicit profanity.

It didn't make it any less embarrassing though.

It was horrible hearing him cite my mistakes and trying to discipline me for them; but after his third paragraph of expletives, I realized something: I _was_ his lackey. He was in charge of me and responsible for anything I got up to. Not only that but he was my own ancestor. _His_ blood and _his_ wars and _his_ inner demons were coursing through me as he spoke. It was his life that withheld my own, and I realized there that Odie was right. Normally I would have looked at Jason with the utmost veneration like the rest of his crew did, but I was sitting here in the presence of my very own symbol of idolatry, the hero I'd molded myself into becoming… and I was ignoring every word he was saying, trying instead to sort through my own philosophy.

What was wrong with me?

My lack of attention did grab his at one point, and I was reprimanded, not as harshly as I'd been expecting though. His report only carried through with a few more sentences before he asked my opinion on the matter. I responded to him with a lack of character and eventually ended up only being sarcastic and full of pessimism. But somehow, this seemed to entertain him. He slapped me fondly on the back, hard enough for me to start hacking in an endless fit of seizing coughs, but I suspected that that was also his way of tossing a bit of revenge my way. In hindsight though, he seemed to have forgiven me; but that didn't mean that he trusted me completely.

He suggested I go with him to the island and get some real food and I accepted his offer to assist me. Did he know about Basil's concoctions?

Jason put a supporting arm around me and helped me to my feet. It seemed a little bit awkward at first, but I felt somewhat at ease when he started making small talk with me and guided me through the empty kitchen, into the unlit antechamber and out onto the deck. There were only a few members of the crew about in the inky twilight, trekking around with tools and long planks of wood to try and repair the damage from the day's events.

Had I really slept through the entire afternoon?

My limbs weren't as stiff as they had been when I had first gone to bed, but they were still intent on putting up a fight whenever I wanted to move. My chest felt the worst though; I sincerely hoped that one of my ribs had not been fractured, or broken for that matter. I blinked in the dimness; we were still banked near the shore of the Doliones' Islands and I could see plumes of heavy grey smoke floating up against the darkening cobalt sky. Campfires. Their luminescence dotted the gaps between the few trees near the beach, and there must have been at least a dozen. For the first time, I started wondering just how many of the warriors inhabited the island.

Jason helped me down the wiry rope ladder draped over the side of the ship and led me on to one of the long boats wading in the calm waters. There were at least six or seven others in it, and among them were Hercules (who had started waving frantically at Jason to indicate an open seat); one of Hercules' favored, well-built servants, who I recognized as Hydras; and sulking near the end of the boat, mouth drooping into a nearly-contained pout, was Neil. I unwound my arm from where I had clung to Jason's shoulders and stiffly scooted over next to Neil, beneath his contagious cloud of sultry depression. He sent a halfhearted scowl my way and I grinned back at him.

Jason didn't seem to mind me leaving his side, and quickly sat down beside Hercules, the two of them immediately setting out on a duel to see who could row faster. There were moments when their tomfoolery resulted in us having to make three U-turns and sometimes completely swivel around just to try and find our destination again in the diminishing light. After a few chuckles Jason declared a tie and the two of them handed the oars over to two other crewmen.

Since Neil opted to keep himself to himself, I decided to listen in on Jason and Hercules' discussion about battle strategies that were used to combat the giants that attempted their thievery aboard our ship. I wasn't really paying attention, the two of them didn't seem to be very serious at all. I was actually focusing on just how casual Jason seemed to be… especially around Hercules. I knew the two of them must have been friends for very long, and they seemed to shake off their chains of command whenever they were in each other's company.

It was weird.

I'd always imagined Jason to be like Hera in a lot of ways. For one thing, they both seemed to have and endless list of responsibilities and an awful lot of work they needed to get done. It was as if proverbial deadlines hung over them and forced them to seem like they were always in some kind of unruly rush. Another thing they've seemed to have in common… was me.

Somehow, I'd ended up under their tutelage. With Hera, it was because she took me in without even a single question at how my abilities fared, and instilled an unsurpassable amount of faith in me not only as leader to whip a band of teenagers into shape, but as a warrior myself – the one thing I had never imagined myself becoming. The only way she had ever offered a challenge to me was with a small frown at my failures. She had never doubted me; that was the difference.

Jason on the other hand, hadn't even believed me capable of tying my own sandals. Everything I've done so far hadn't been to gain his approval – that ship had sailed aeons ago – and was in some ways on precisely the opposite side of the road when it came down to it. I wasn't interested in what he thought about me, which in itself was surprising. For as long as I'd been a part of this team, I'd been trying to mold myself into the type of person I'd thought the Great Jason would be like, so that I could lead everyone to our shared victory, and celebrate like I was a real person again, not just some robot that was meant to bark orders and drive my friends to their early graves.

Now that I looked at him, I didn't understand who I' been trying to mimic, whether it was the real Jason in front of me… or my own fabricated representation of him. It seemed to me more likely to be the latter.

The long boat made a rusty dock on the shore of the island and almost everybody clamored out of it immediately. Neil let out a tort sigh and stood stiffly, offered me a hand, pulled me up to my feet and helped me put of the boat. He didn't look at me once. His attitude had me confused, and I was about to ask him what was bothering him when Hercules called over to Neil to help him and Hydras find some decent wood to repair the oar that was broken over the giant's head earlier.

Neil glanced at me and I nodded for him to go ahead. He walked over to them quickly, and I couldn't help but notice the slightest limp on his step. Even though I was slightly taken aback at the possibility of his luck allowing him to be injured, I decided that I would as him about it later.

I shook it off and trudged in Jason and Hercules' tracks over to the nearest copse. The dots of flame were almost inherent, but there was a certain gloom they added to the branches I sauntered past, elongating every shadow, and thinning the leaves into long fingers. A shiver trailed down my back, despite the humidity, and I hurried my pace, wincing with almost every step. Thin trails of smoke wafted over to me as I neared the warmth and laughter of one of the many bonfires, and the smell of ash and cinders flowed up my nostrils. I didn't know whether or not to welcome it or cup my hand over my nose… at least it smelled better than the previous island.

I walked through a small thrush of tinier shrubberies, and the sound of laughter and jollity enveloped me. Through the throngs of dancing, eating and lounging Doliones and crewmen; I spotted Atlanta, Archie and Herry seated on the soft grass at the base of a tall tree with a wide trunk, feasting on what seemed to be wild buck meat. I briefly noted that Atalanta was seated with three willowy Dolionian women and demonstrating her abilities with skipping stones down a wide, gleaming stream. There didn't seem to be any sign of Jason or Hercules, though I was certain that they had headed in this direction. Atlanta spotted me and waved me over to join them. I sat down next to Herry and was rewarded with a platter of berries, freshly stewed meat and something that looked like guacamole and mashed olives, but I wasn't very willing to take my chances with it.

"Where've you been?" asked Archie, his mouth overflowing with berry juice.

"Solitary confinement," I joked, picking up a few of the berries and popping them in my mouth, and suddenly I was extremely hungry. Theresa was right, I was starting to look - and feel – unbelievably thin.

"Did Jason let you out of the kitchen?" Atlanta scooted over next to me to join the conversation.

"Or did you go all badass and sneak out?" Archie added.

I ignored him, "Yeah, he let me out for good behavior. Consider me on official parole."

"What was happening on the ship earlier?" Herry asked, his cheeks bulging with food. "Half of the officials booked it out of here faster than Atlanta"

"Giants on the ship," I muttered when Atlanta stuck her tongue out at Herry, "but we handled it before they all got there."

The three of them looked at me as if I'd suggested they make tea out of gunpowder. After being bombarded with questions about casualties on the ship, my own safety, and meticulous details about the expanse; I launched into the story, being sure to include the suggestion for an early morning training session while we had the room for exercise. I didn't like how I'd been so careless with the trip so far, and though Odie's words had gotten to me earlier, I wasn't about to flounce the opportunity I'd been given to remedy the situation. I had to get on top of things; and now that I knew where to start, I plan had suddenly come into fruition.

After the others relayed their own stories to me, I learned about some of the alliances the others had made with some of the crew, and even some of the rumors that had begun circulating my shipmates' conversations. The words stretched from one man's scandalous affairs back in Athens to the probability of Theresa and Jason's marriage now that I had stepped in somewhere. I did get a few wicked glances from people every now and again as my eyes drifted around the fire-lit clearing full of people. How much did these people really know? And what kind of thoughts would they begin having of they learned about the captain's trust issues with me? I wasn't even sure if he did trust me at all. I wasn't even sure if _I _trusted _him_ at all. Herry and Atlanta had started digging for information about the couple from other crew members, and the most common feedback they had received was about Jason's over-protectiveness towards his fiancée, and that nobody really gets much of an opportunity to talk to her – let alone see her. I felt like I'd been missing too much while I was held prisoner in the kitchen, I needed to try and get back in the game that seemed to be circumventing the crew members of the _Argo_.

The embers slowly started dying, the bonfire limiting its life to a flicker, and many of the people crowded throughout the tiny meadow soon let themselves fall to a peaceful sleep beneath the tall trees. With my own stomach full and the day itself bursting with a personal sense of satisfaction, I allowed my self to drift away as well; my dreams slipping from Flea's frightened face to the intoxicating aroma of fresh green apples and dying cinders.

…

_Neil_

…

I tripped over a loose stone for the third time in one short hour. Hercules had gone off somewhere into a wider expanse of tumbling vines, leaving myself and Hydras to wander in search of, and I quote, "a really, really long piece of driftwood". I understood that he needed the wood for a new oar, why he thought driftwood would actually be present this far inland was beyond me though; but orders were orders and I wasn't one to question a commander… often.

Hydras wasn't very bad company, I actually believed that I was the worse presence between the two of us. Where I was keeping to myself and ignoring my task, he was trying to fill the silence with his chipper attitude. After a while of gaining no reaction from me, he moved a few paces further to the left of me to skim the ground in a wider berth. He liked to whistle; and that didn't completely bother me. It made my surroundings seem a little less eerie.

I'll admit that I was a little freaked out; sometimes when Hydras stopped his whistling to take a breath, I would hear a quick rustle of leaves to my right, or soft footfalls trailing behind me, a few steps faltering and running over a loose pebble that I myself drifted over. I swallowed back the gnawing urge to look back and be sure there was nothing behind me – that would just make me look like I was some sort of paranoid coward. But I couldn't shake the feeling.

Hydras' whistle grew in pitch as he swayed in his step, his eyes trained on the ground, the soft brown of his curls falling into his eyes. I felt a twinge of jealousy at how his hair fell almost flawlessly around his face, he would have had modeling agencies bowing in the streets as he walked by if he'd been alive in the twenty-first century.

That was the one thing that made this unbearable.

A connection with someone here, a _friendship_ with anyone, would just mean that I would end up disappointed. I couldn't take a friend back home with me. So I had to be content with keeping myself to myself. The others seemed to have no problem bonding with the crew, and it wasn't as if people hadn't extended a hand of kindness to me… but did they even realize what kind of hurt would ensue with such a small bit of solace? So much could be taken away if we needed to make a quick escape.

My resolve was solid – I would stay suspicious of everyone I'd met, including Hydras and Hercules, because I really didn't know if it was worth trusting anybody with anything anymore. Yes, I may have seemed a little childish when I first came; but it wasn't as if people generally enjoyed being ripped out of their comfort zones. So I found it in myself that it an infinitesimal amount of times better to just be objective during a mission, then try to bear the hurt when we had a short respite… it almost seemed to be a ritual at this point.

A burning ache started pulsing up my left leg from my heel. It was a miniscule injury, I'd gotten it from miscalculating a step on the few stairs in the sleeping chamber in the ship… but that didn't make it any less painful. Nevertheless, it wasn't worth complaining about; and I doubted anyone would actually listen to me if I did. It would heal at it's own time. It felt a lot more comfortable to just let it be anyway; and it wasn't as if I hadn't gotten hurt before.

So many scars immediately eradicated that thought.

I tossed my hair – it was starting to get unbelievably long now – and came up to a wide stream (more of a shallow river) that flowed by gently. If it weren't for the moonlight glistening off of the pale water I would have stomped right into it, though it only seemed deep enough to come up to my waist, or maybe even my ribs. I wanted to call out to Hydras to tell him to watch out for the river, but stopped in the silence. A rustle came from the bushes from my far left. Hydras' whistle had faded, with only the sound of moving water to take the place of his voice. I turned and scanned the darkness for any sign of him, the river flowing quickly behind me.

My first instinct was to call out to him, but something told me that that would be a very bad idea. There was something else out here, something a little too unfamiliar for my liking. The rustle came again, but closer this time. The sound of padding feet on the soft dirt, but not loud enough for me to be certain. A small change in the wind, like a tired whisper, a reflected giggle almost. A creak on the branches bade me look up, and I did. A willowy shadow flitted quickly away, out of the light and into the mossy sanctuary of a winding tree trunk.

I stepped back, curling my hands into steady fists and my foot sunk into the clay of the riverbed. I took a breath to orientate myself and tried tugging my foot out of the mud and cool water. But it didn't stop sinking. I tried to pull free, keeping my eyes on the hidden shadow's tree. It was useless, and I sank further, up to my knee. My other foot got caught in the dirt. It wasn't just letting me sink into the mud though; no, it was actually _dragging _me back by my ankles. My one heel was in too much pain to fight back, but my other leg instinctively began to flail and strike at whatever had a hold on me as I grunted in frustration.

I could feel my face growing red with the effort. There was that giggle again, that giggle in the icy breeze.

The shadow flitted past me again and I pitched forward suddenly, the wind singing softly in my ears as I caught myself on my elbows before smacking face-first into the ground. My hands and arms were rapidly caked in mud as I tried to get back up onto my feet. I was still being dragged back and fell to the floor again. An unintelligible groan escaped me and I had a sudden thought that if my friends had been around, I might have made a joke about a mud bath or something to ease the tension; but they _weren't_ here… I had to get out of this situation myself.

What exactly _was_ the situation?

Then the dragging became fiercer, more determined, and I could feel the river-water welling up around me, engulfing me in a suddenly stagnant cloud of cold. I let out one final yell for help as I was restrained beneath the surface.

But my final cries were immediately silenced by a deadly giggle in the wind.

_**.**_

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…

**|END OF PART 1|**

…

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_**All of the Neil fans are going to behead me for this. 0_0**_

**_The chapter name will make sense if you've read Mercutio's rant about Queen Mab in Master Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_; it's one of my personal favorites._**

_**Reviews and constructive raspberries are most welcomed!**_

_**Oh, I'm a Beta Reader now, so if anyone is interested or just needs some encouragement, you know what to do!**_

_**I know I've been gone for a little while and I may have missed some stories, so I need to hand out some reviews. If you know for a fact that I missed an update f your story or you'd just like me to leave a review for you, let me know!**_

_**Peace!**_


	17. Chapter 16: Equivalent Exchange

_**Yay! An update!**_

_**I am absolutely terrible! I forgot to reply to almost everyone's reviews! *backs away slowly* Sorry about that ^^**_

_**Thanks to my reviewers: shiney32, queen of games, HoneyGoddess57, Neonz and Tinian I'att.**_

_**To Amy47101, yes Atlanta's ancestor should be Artemis, but seeing as Artemis never did have any children, the show writers changed it halfway through the series. As far as I know it is Atalanta not Artemis, but thank you for pointing it out :)**_

…

_Chapter 16_

_Equivalent Exchange_

"Try a little harder, Jay! Atlanta and Herry already have three laps on us!"

I huffed, "I'm trying my best here, Arch."

"You're telling me this is the best you can do? Herry can catch a joke faster than you can run!" he slowed to a quick trot and fell back to jog beside me. My lungs were starting to cave in. The early morning training wasn't going as smoothly as I'd hoped it would.

"You're the one that picked me to be on your team, you know," I retorted with a scowl.

"Well hey, you went along with it." Archie's mess of purple hair was slicked back with sweat as he panted beside me. "You don't look too good, Jay. Do you want us to stop and regroup?"

I mustered a chuckle, "You getting tired already, Arch?"

He stopped abruptly and leaned back against the wide trunk of a dark tree with a decisive scowl. His pale face had some color in it from his exertion, and he looked at me hard with his grey eyes. I came to a slow halt as well, moving over to where he stood with labored breathing. The stitch that had been growing in my side since our warm up had sped to a harsh throb, and my muscles were still somewhat stiffened – though moving them about had improved their mobility a little.

We were in the middle of the thinner expanse of forestland on the Island of the Doliones; the leaves in the tall trees ranging more from a soft saffron to a deep plum than the usual green. Fall was definitely on the way. The soil beneath my sandals was wet and loamy from the morning dew; though we were atop a steep cliff covered in mossy vegetation, it was odd to think that the island was considered a tropical paradise. It was too much like the woods back home.

Then again, it was horrendously humid here.

Archie did not look amused as a tiny droplet of sweat fell from the tip of his nose. "I'm serious, Jay." He swallowed a lump in his throat. "You shouldn't strain yourself, if you can't handle it then-"

"Who said I can't handle it?" he didn't flinch, but I was surprised by the sharpness in my tone. "We have to get some training done, Arch. I don't want to think what would happen if we weren't prepared for-"

"Prepared for what, Jay? In case we get attacked by pirates or a rogue seagull?" he stood up straight and his fingers twitched, as if he were trying to stop his hands from curling into fists. My hands were still on my knees, trying to support me and my uncooperative body. If he was looking for a fight, I wouldn't give him much satisfaction in my current state – but it wasn't as if I were going to tell him that. His nostrils flared slightly, "There hasn't been a bloody thing going on around here!" he yelled. "All you've been doing so far is shutting us out and gallivanting around in attempt to get Theresa's attention! Please tell me why you think we would be endangered when our most imminent threat is death by boredom!" he let out an angered puff of air.

"Archie, what are you-" I tried to interject.

"And in case you haven't noticed what's been staring you plainly in the face, Jay," his eyes narrowed venomously, "she's only been toying with you. Even if you think she's the same Theresa you lost. She's someone else entirely and she _can't_ be trusted."

I could feel the incredulity forming on my face. A welt of anger had begun to form in my throat, but I tried to keep it at bay. Archie's face softened lightly, but his frown was still obviously beyond controlling. My teeth were clenched as I tried to keep my voice low and even, stern enough to remind him that I was his leader – that had nothing to do with the situation, but it made me feel better to have the authority. "Archie, if you have something to say, I suggest you cool down first."

I stood up to my full length and he mimicked my gesture. He stood staring down at his own feet – something prominent evidently gnawing at him; he finally let his hands ball into fists at his sides, his tendons stretching over his whitening knuckles. His jaw was taut, but he was trying to keep himself under control.

"You haven't noticed at all, have you, Jay?" he kept his gaze lowered. I didn't try to interrupt him now. "You've always tried to drill it into our heads. You kept telling us we need to work together; we need to be a team. You said that was the only way to beat Cronus." He peered up at me from behind his lashes. "Did we really ever mean anything to you at all?"

I flinched at his words, "Archie, I-"

"What was the point of us coming out here anyway?" he spoke over me. "I mean, you could have just come here on your own. All you seem to be worried about is yourself and your little girlfriend – and that stupid ancestor of yours." He lifted his head and the full force of his eyes hit mine. They were filled with rage, and beneath that, a certain depth of… hurt.

My anger quickly dissipated and my throat tightened with a sudden rush of realization.

Archie was right.

A sea spray came up from the beach and showered us in glitter, and with it came the familiar buzz of Atlanta's fast footfalls. Her sudden stop sent a cloud of dust up into Archie's face. His eyes didn't leave mine.

Atlanta panted next to him, "You two aren't even trying!" she pouted and folded her arms. "I thought we were supposed to be _racing_ here." Herry came up behind her at a brisk trot, not phased in the least by the amount of exercise, it didn't even seem as though he had broken a sweat. Atlanta, on the other hand, had ruddy cheeks and hair sleeked back with perspiration.

Sensing the tension, Herry cleared his throat and Atlanta gave Archie a cautious look, "Everything okay, guys?" she asked.

Archie narrowed his eyes more and uncurled his fingers, but his jaw was still rigid, "Peachy." He glanced sideways at Atlanta's confused expression, and then he turned on his heel and stalked off back into the menagerie of colorful trees.

…

"Jay, he's just frustrated!" Atlanta yelled from behind me. "Give him a chance to cool off."

I ignored her and kept walking, kicking a small stone out of my path as I went. "I don't care if he's frustrated, Atlanta!" I shouted back, "He's not the only one that has to accommodate slight changes."

The direction I had chosen to stalk off in was ultimately a bad path for my anger. Gnarled roots and thistles littered the ground; the tree trunks seemed to expand the further I walked – leaving me absolutely no place to throw my hands up in the air and vent my own frustration; and to top it all off, I had to come to a sudden stop after trudging into a marshy area. Mud in my sandals was absolutely the last thing I needed on my mind right now.

"But he's just tired of having nothing to do!" She came up beside me as I stopped, not caring in the least about the foul mood I was in, "Jay-"

"Don't you get it?" I said firmly, turning on my heel to face her. "He's right. I've been a terrible leader. I can't see what's right in front of me; I've been ignoring all of you; and," I could feel my face getting hot, "I've let Theresa lead me astray."

Atlanta's face looked pained, as if she were deliberating whether or not to take up Archie's argument against me in his stead. Herry walked slowly over to where we stood, and in the sullen silence, I could hear a small trickle of a nearby stream – assuring me that if I had ignored the marsh I might actually have traipsed into deeper water. I wasn't in the mood for a wet toga either.

Herry put a brawny hand on Atlanta's shoulder and spoke softly, "As far as it goes, this is the longest we've been away from New Olympia on a mission."

I looked up at him and sighed, "I know, Herry. It's been weeks. But if we don't get Theresa to come back with us, then I'm afraid we won't have anything worth going back to." My heart fell slightly at my own words.

Archie's sulky voice came from behind a mossy tree off to my far left and I jumped at his sudden interjection, "Why do we need to take her back anyway?" he seemed considerably calmer as he stepped into view, his arms folded loosely over his chest. "The prophecy's already been broken in that timeline anyway. What do we need her for?"

"We can't just leave her behind now!" Atlanta almost screamed, "Then we've spent all of our time here for nothing."

"She can't help us!" Archie walked over to us, stepping in front of Atlanta so that she had to look up at him.

Her expression was defiant, "She could help us find Cronus with her powers; she's done it before."

"It's not like we could ask any people about it," Herry agreed. "There aren't any people around New Olympia anyway, at least not that I've seen."

"There was one person," I said. "Remember the guy Neil and I met when we searched Theresa's house?"

"You mean the nut job?" Archie asked.

I ignored his question, "He told us there were secret police all around that town and near the border, but now that I think about it, Neil and I hadn't seen anybody at all. The only people that we'd actually encountered, besides ourselves and the gods at the school, were Athena and Raven."

Atlanta was still glaring at Archie as she spoke, "Do you think Theresa would know anything? I mean from before she was brought here."

"That's the thing," I answered, "She's being way too secretive, but she's clearly hiding something." I exhaled, saying that out loud made me feel a little better. I hadn't been too sure about it at first, but Archie's outburst this morning made me feel a little more affirmed in my assumption. There was definitely something she wasn't telling me.

"Can't we just go home then?" Herry asked. "If you're not making any progress with her, then there really isn't a point in us staying here." His eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at his feet.

I sighed, "I'd prefer it if we could just stay where we are, but I guess we should ask Odie about it before we come to a decision. He _is_ the only one who knows how to work that TIMI thing."

I looked at each of them in turn. Atlanta stood up to her full height next to Archie, glowering at the back of his head. Archie himself still had his arms folded but he was staring off into space, his back to me and Atlanta. Herry still had his eyes on his shoes, as if he were ashamed of speaking out against the mission. I was sure that the three of them were thinking about what would happen if we were to go back home and try to deal with Cronus without Theresa's help; and I knew that they were worried about the people they'd left behind.

Who knew what Cronus had done? I didn't know if I wanted to face it. A sudden grief took over me, but I pushed it to the back of my mind, determined not to let it drag me down in front of my team. However, my mind was made up.

I sighed again, "I guess we should leave it up to a vote then." Three pairs of eyes met mine. "But seeing as both of them failed to show up to training, first we should discuss it with Odie and Neil."

…

In an attempt to lighten the mood slightly, I'd suggested we race back to the crew's camping grounds, and the winners would get an extra helping of fruit that I'd retrieve from the kitchen when we got back to the ship. When we got back to the clearing where the crew had spent the night though, the atmosphere was resolutely morbid. All the men were either slouched or frowning. There was even someone weeping near the shallow river.

"What gives?" Herry whispered behind me. "Did something happen?"

"Sadly, yes," a low voice came from behind our group and all four of us jumped in surprise. It was Hercules, his face drawn to the ground, eyes fixed on his toes. "Nymphs," he said, "The dryads and naiads near the river."

"What about them?" Archie asked impatiently.

He sighed heavily, "Your friend, Neil, and my servant, Hylas*… the nymphs took a liking to the two of them; and unfortunately…" He rubbed at his eyes with his too-large hands and spoke softly, "Their bodies were found an hour ago near the left bank at the mouth of the river."

There was a sudden intake of breaths from my three compatriots; then, only silence.

My own silence overshadowed that of the clearing. For eight days I'd maintained that silence. I hadn't uttered a word – not a complaint or a praise, not even a single condolence. I just kept my mouth shut firmly. What was there to say? _I'd failed_. There was nothing I could do at all. _I'd failed_. I was a terrible leader. I couldn't keep one of my most loyal members safe. _I'd failed_.

I knew the fault had been my own, though I couldn't help but blame one person for all of it.

I'd left the others to their grieving, and they'd left me to my brooding. Atlanta did the honors of climbing to the crow's nest and breaking the news to Odie. I didn't know how he took it; I didn't really know how any of them took it. No one had spoken to me for my eight days of silence, not even Basil or Flea had made any attempt at consoling me. The others hadn't brought up that notion of leaving again either. I was thankful that I'd been left to my own devices; I wouldn't have been able to bear the thought of anyone seeing my resolve so weak. Though we'd left the Island of the Doliones on the day after Neil's death – _murder_ I should say, it wasn't a happy departure. Hylas had been a favorite with most of the crew, and apparently so had Neil – despite his aperture between the majorities of his cabin-mates. Most people aboard the _Argo _had been horrified at the news, and I was one of them.

I couldn't help but feel the weight of Archie's words along with my own ignorance. _Did we really ever mean anything to you at all?_

A lot of my time had been spent in the fresh produce room peeling cageplants and the like; and now that I was free to roam the deck whenever I pleased, Jason had put me back on my rowing duties. I didn't speak to anyone. I didn't look at anyone. I kept my distance from almost everybody. I didn't like to think about what happened to Neil. I knew nymphs had a habit of taking a liking to anyone with good looks, and I knew that they were mischievous and cunning, and had a terrible way of going about getting what they wanted.

But I'd never imagined that my team would be ruptured by something so meager as a group of determined supernatural flirts.

I could feel a lot of eyes on the back of my head as my final shift ended and I left my rowing seat. I tried to ignore everyone's stares and stretched my arms up over my head; then I slowly made my way up to the deck. The evening was cool, much cooler than usual. I knew we would reach another island shortly, but I wasn't in the mood to rack my brain and figure out which one. Something in my brain told me it just wasn't worth the effort.

I sighed and walked over to the bulwark on the side of the ship. The sea was calm, the waves lapping against the ship with a pearly iridescence; the sun had just set so it wasn't completely dark yet. I sighed softly against the chilly breeze and felt my heart sink.

I was a hopeless leader.

My sleep hadn't been peaceful for over a week. That same nightmare had been recurring, waking me in fits in the middle of the night. Despite my efforts to suppress those visions by physical exertion and numbing out dark thoughts, the dreams were still overly prominent.

I turned to lean with my back against the banister and heard voices, soft but definitely there. My eyes scanned the darkened platforms across my view of the ship, and I spotted two silhouettes against the darkening sky just above the captain's quarters. A loud snort told me that one of them was Archie, and the other's stature obviously belonged to Atlanta. They were too far away for me to be able to hear what they were saying, but they didn't seem to be fighting, so I suppose that was a good sign. Their legs dangled through the railings and over the side of the small platform, kicking the air back and forth in unison.

The corner of my lip quirked up slightly at the sight of them co-operating for once.

"I thought I might find you here." A voice cut through the breeze and wound around my thoughts. I turned my head and narrowed my eyes. Theresa stood beside me, her hands cupping her elbows in front of her chest to warm her arms.

Archie's words rang in my head: _Even if you think she's the same Theresa you lost. She's someone else entirely and she _can't_ be trusted._ Those words came out of his own instinct, and just because I trusted him didn't mean I trusted his judgment.

But still.

I averted my gaze from her and she continued, "I heard about what happened to your friend. I'm sorry, Jay." I nodded slightly and then there was a short silence. "Jay? It wasn't your fault. You shouldn't blame yourself for what happened."

I looked at her then. Her expression was passive, but sincere. She'd said those exact words to me so many times before. How different was she really? My voice was raspy from under use, "You don't need to be sorry." The words came out angrier than I'd expected them to and Theresa's eyebrows furrowed.

I stood up straight and made to walk away, enforcing the idea that the conversation was over; but she grabbed my wrist before I could take three steps. "Jay…" she bit her lip.

"What?" I said flatly.

"I… there's something… I need to tell you." She faltered and my eyebrows rose in expectation. "About Jason," she stopped suddenly and rubbed her temples.

"What is it, Theresa?" I asked. I was getting impatient now – I had moping I needed to get back to. "Keep your secrets if you have to, but don't act so fearless when you don't even have the guts to-"

Her fist came flying at my face. I barely managed to catch it in my palm before she knocked my jaw off. She glared at me as I wrapped my fingers tighter around her hand, her nostrils flaring slightly. "Don't call me a weakling, Jay. I am _not_ gutless."

I squeezed her hand angrily but her fingers didn't uncurl, she didn't even flinch. Her hair fell over her shoulder and she shifted her feet suddenly. With a quick crouch and a sweep of her left leg I fell to the ground with Theresa forcing down her weight on top of me. I still had her fist in my hand. Her teeth were clenched and she said again, "I am _not_ gutless."

Her breath was warm as she spoke, warm and sweet. She tried to yank her hand free but I was too stubborn to let her go. She tried again and let out a yelp of frustration when I wouldn't release her; a small, furious tear trailed over her eyelid and fell onto my cheek. She bared her teeth at me and didn't let go of her defiant expression.

I quickly wrapped my free arm around her waist and rolled over, pinning her beneath me by her wrists. She let out a small hiccup of surprise before her head met the hard deck beneath her. "Really?" I asked, "You look pretty helpless from here." She looked up at me heatedly, her golden hair splayed around her face. Angry tears pooled helplessly in her eyes as she struggled to get free and she pinched them shut, letting the salty water trickle down to her temples and wet her hair.

I leaned down further and put my face close to hers. Her eyes didn't open but a heavy sob escaped her lips, making a puff of air warm my face. Her pained expression caused a lump to grow in my throat, and suddenly I found it very difficult to breathe. My own frustration forced hot tears to begin springing up in my own eyes. The look she wore, the way she pointed her fury at me, her familiar green eyes hidden behind those angry sobs – it was all too much for me to take in.

My own jaw became inflexible as I clenched my teeth. I let my impulses take over and forced my lips down hard on hers.

Her eyelashes tickled mine as her lids flickered open. Her own watery eyes peered up at mine and I let go of her wrists, moving my hands to the sides of her face, pulling her closer to me, refusing to let go of the girl I'd grown so close to, the one that knew me better than anyone ever pretended to. There was a part of my brain yelling at me, telling me this was a terrible thing to be doing, that this wasn't _my_ Theresa, this was someone I hardly knew.

So why didn't I want to stop?

Common sense kicked in and I made to pull away from her, wrench myself back to reality and walk away, pretend none of this ever happened. But she raised her arms and entangled her fingers in my now-shaggy hair, drawing me back down to her. Her eyes closed and I permitted my own to slip shut too, letting my hands trail down to her shoulders. I sat up on my knees and pulled her onto my lap, her hands still wrapped in my hair, her knees bending beneath her.

A memory flashed in my mind, the way we were positioned now was exactly the same as at that beach. This was the way I had held her, thinking she was dead and gone, her lifeless body growing colder in my arms, her glow fading into the salty waters surrounding her. This forced a flush of thoughts to rain down on me. All of this was to stop Cronus, all of this suffering was endured to end him. He caused all this pain. This was everything _he_ had done!

None of it was Theresa's fault.

I pulled away from her suddenly and crawled backwards, letting her fall to the floor on her elbow. I was panting now, sweating feverishly, trying to get the thoughts of her dead body out of my mind, trying to erase the feeling of her lifeless kiss on my chapped lips. Tears slipped feebly down my face as I breathed heavily, choking on a few sobs in my efforts to suppress my pitiful display of emotion.

Theresa pushed herself up, a line of blood tracing down her arm from her elbow where the skin had broken. She ignored it completely and tried to catch her breath, wide eyes and tearstained face directed at me. Neither of us said a word.

"What the…" Archie ran over from his perch to where we sat immobilized, Atlanta on his trail. They must have heard the commotion we'd made. "What happened?" he practically yelled at me. "What the_ hell_ are you doing, Jay?"

Theresa was the first to react; she got up on to her feet and raced around a sharp corner at a ferocious speed, Atlanta following close behind her. Archie looked down at me with a scowl before offering a hand to help me up. "I told you she was trouble," he said as I shakily pulled myself up.

I shoved him backwards and began shivering. My mind was reeling with those terrible memories and I felt dizzy. I could virtually _feel_ my confusion crawling around in my mind, spreading like a frozen wildfire. The feeling was sickening, almost violating, and I clutched at my head with an angered cry. Archie's face quickly contorted into a concerned mask and he grabbed me under my arm before I stumbled back.

"Jay? Come on, man. Are you feeling okay?" his words were drowned out by the blood rushing past my ears, I was sure I was about to be sick. He draped my arm over his shoulder and yelled for someone. I felt my knees buckle beneath me and a rush of wind on my face. Then, everything fell into a blistering darkness.

The last thing I felt was Theresa's ghostly kiss dying on my lips.

…

_***I realized that in my previous chapter I wrote Hydras as Hercules' servant's name. It was actually meant to be Hylas. Sorry for that crazy little error, I nearly tore my hair out when I noticed.**_

_**Okay so not my longest chapter, I know; but please leave a review if you liked it ^^ Hopefully, I managed to get all of the emotions right with that little J/T scene, and I know it feels like Jay should be displaying more grief – but his way of grieving is silence and numbing out thoughts. He never struck me as the type to bawl erratically.**_

_**That's my rant for now.**_

_**Constructive criticism is very much welcomed (encouraged even). Please let me know if you feel like I could improve on anything – action scenes, love scenes, style, tone etc. The next chapter is going to reveal some more of the underlying plot, so I want to get it as close to perfect as possible!**_

_**Have a great day!**_

_**Merci!**_


	18. Chapter 17: A Rocky Road

_**Thanks to everybody that reviewed my last chapter!**_

_**HoneyGoddess57, Emma, COTT Fan, Tinian I'att, classofthetitans711, irish-table and Neonz.**_

_**You guys are the bestest :3**_

…

_Chapter 17_

_A Rocky Road_

Cronus was laughing. It was that pompous cynical cackle that bubbled up out of his throat whenever the crazy god believed he had won at something. He wasn't just laughing for the sake of it though; no, he was laughing at _me_. His bellows of self-satisfaction were grinding into my brain, making my head ache as the sound went up an octave – almost like the terrible screeches of Stymphalian Birds. Only, I couldn't see his face… I couldn't see anything at all.

My vision was askew, tilting somehow in layers of differing shades of black and grey. It almost looked like static on a television screen because of the way every dot of colorless light swam before me.

I felt as if my brain were trying to reboot itself.

My limbs felt weightless, but somehow my forehead was extremely cold. I concentrated on that, allowing it to pull me from this dreamy state in which I hovered. Slowly, I started feeling heavier. The sensation started at my toes, and drifted upwards in waves until finally, it reached my eyelids and I suddenly felt like I was lying under a ton of bricks with a large giant sitting on top of them.

I groaned loudly and my eyes reluctantly opened. I still felt weighty and immobile, my fingers wouldn't even twitch. The source of the cold on my forehead was in fact a wet, icy rag – torn from the hem of somebody's toga. I groaned again, louder this time, and my shoulders tensed with the effort.

I knew where I was just by looking up at the ceiling, catching a glimpse of the scars on the wall beside me out of the corner of my eye, and by the smell of resembling that of a petting zoo nearby. I was below deck, in the room I shared with Basil, lying on my straw divan. A figure was leaning against the wall by the door, staring off into space and caught within the maze of his mind. I could recognize that mess of purple hair anywhere.

Archie.

I tried sending a message to my fingers again, and my left middle and ring fingers jerked slightly. Celebrating that small victory, I tried turning my head. I succeeded, and inch by inch I managed to move my head to the side. I was puzzled for a brief second when I noticed a bundle of thin, tangled limbs over on Basil's divan, knowing the lump of a person was much too small to be the cook.

The lump shifted slightly, and I caught a glimpse at a mound of mottled, shaggy brown hair in the dim lamplight. It was obviously Flea.

I tried to assemble myself slowly, my upper body lifting in tiny spasms. I winced when I finally managed to convince my arms to help me, and I used my elbows to pivot into a sitting position. I grunted and my movements finally seemed to catch Archie's attention. His head whipped around to face me. I swung my legs over the side of the straw mattress and my head fell into my hands out of exhaustion. The way my body was reacting to everything all of a sudden – the cool floor against my bare feet, the dim light against my eyes, the salty sea air that floated around the ship, my limbs feeling as if they'd never been used before – you'd think I was a newborn baby with all of these fresh sensations. I was completely aware of my surroundings, every dull sound and smell was suddenly heightened and prominent.

It was sickeningly overwhelming.

Archie sat down beside me and stooped over to pick the rag up off the floor. He began wringing it in his hands, and I noticed his knuckles suddenly. They were cut up and there were still-fresh scars forming over his palms and the webbed skin between his thumbs and index fingers. I lifted my head slightly and felt a wave hit me, not quite nausea, not quite stiffness; but it felt extremely strange.

He was staring at me, waiting for something to happen; or maybe he was just waiting for me to say or do something. I looked at him closely too. His hair had grown longer, and where there should have been a dark shade of heliotrope, the roots of his natural, caramel colored hair were showing. His eyes were stormy and expectant; his body tensed for any one of my reactions, and his expression was hard and somewhat unsure.

I wasn't really certain of what he expected, but it definitely wasn't me bursting out in a fit of incessant laughter.

His shocked face quickly filled with red. "W-what?" he demanded.

I had to clutch at my stomach to try and retain my guffawing; and the more I tried to repress it, the more it sounded like I was snorting and snickering like a mischievous five-year-old. "You really _did_ dye your hair!"

He looked about ready to kick me in the shins. "So what?" his face ballooned with a terrible streak of crimson. "_You_ use Neil's peroxide to bleach your bangs!"

That stopped me mid-laugh.

Neil.

He was gone. The memory flooded back and I felt my heart get heavier, a sudden lump forming in my throat. I almost fell forward at the realization of his absence; I couldn't even muster the strength to glare at Archie for taunting me. He saw my face fall and swallowed hard.

"Oh yeah," he muttered. "You don't know yet."

My ears perked up and I gave him a confused look, "Know what?"

He stood up again and went back to leaning against the wall beside the door, the rag still in his hands. "Neil-"

There was a sudden gasp beside me and I looked up. Flea's bright brown eyes met mine, and he held my gaze for a short second before hopping off of Basil's bed and bounding out of the room faster than a startled jackrabbit.

I blinked, "What's with him?"

Archie sighed lightly, "He hasn't left your side for days. No matter how much I threatened him, he just wouldn't go away."

"Wait," I sat up, my back cracking slightly at the sudden movement. I ignored the stinging sensation that sung through my vertebrae, "Days? What do you mean? How long was I out?"

"Three– well, three and a _half_ days," he said. That wasn't nearly considerable as a long time though. Atlanta had been unconscious for just over three weeks one summer – that was almost a month's worth of Archie's moodiness.

I tried not to think about how I'd ended up like this in the first place. I thought about Flea, did the boy really care that much to be keeping an eye on me during my unconscious state? I didn't know what to think "He'd been watching over me the whole time?"

Archie snorted, "Fell asleep on the job more times than deemed excusable if you ask me." I met his eyes and grinned at his cynicism. His lip curled up in the corner with a halfhearted response. Then he became serious again. "Jay, about what I said on that island-"

"Don't," I said. "I get it, you were frustrated. I would be too…" I thought about Theresa, the image of her pained expression in my embrace flashed before my mind's eye and I felt a sudden pang of guilt. But I pushed the thought to the back of my mind for now, "And you were right anyway. Some things just aren't the same anymore."

I turned my head slightly and looked at the carvings I'd made in the wall when I first ended up down here. Had I really been so naïve before? How could I possibly have believed I could still be the hero? I couldn't save the day; I'd already sent one of my teammates to the Underworld out of carelessness; and the girl I… _loved_, there I said it, had disappeared. This new person carried her face and her movements – but deep down I knew I wasn't convinced. She wasn't Theresa. She wasn't mine.

"It's not that simple…" Archie muttered. I looked back at him. Taking a deep breath, he bowed his head where he stood, suddenly very interested in the floor, and began quietly, "When I was eight, there was this… accident."

"Accident?" I asked, startled by his sudden openness.

"Let's just say there were a lot of stupid kids involved… me included." He didn't look up, slowly wringing the rag in his scarred hands. "What happened was, I had my _peroneous tertius_ tendon ruptured." He paused and gestured to a small outstanding tendon beneath the skin on top of his foot, "You'd think it ironic I didn't have my Achilles tendon torn or something." He chuckled to himself. "Yeah, so after that I couldn't walk right anymore. My dad took me to physical therapy and all, but a ruptured tendon isn't something that heals up all well and dandy."

He swallowed again, and I waited, "I spent two years on crutches before my uncle surprised me with a bronze ankle brace for my birthday, but the thing was… I still had to grow into it." He unconsciously rotated his ankle. "Do you know what that's like? I mean, I had a chance to seem normal again. I didn't have to go around town on a pair of crutches. I didn't have to be that crippled kid that everyone looked at with pity in their eyes. People would say they cared, but they'd avoid you, knowing you were a person but treating you like some kind of… disease.

"I waited four more years before the brace actually fit me. Thing is, I broke it once. Just once… and I had to use the crutches again." He looked at me then, "That feeling came back again. I was helpless, weak. There was nothing I could do but wait, wait for my brace to be fixed again, wait until I could be… useful."

His gaze was so intense, I couldn't blink, "I can't be in that place again, Jay. I can't be the helpless kid just waiting for some miracle to save me from my nightmares." He straightened, and his tone became softer, less serious and more matter-of-fact, "Of course, I still keep the crutches. They're in the laundry room back at the Brownstone, behind the third dryer. They're there just in case something happens, but… I need them out of the way, so that I can just convince myself that I don't need them… and that maybe I never did."

His voice became dreamier as his train of thought swam away. I didn't really know what to say to him, but somehow I didn't really feel the need to say anything at all. I felt like I was seeing Archie in a new light – and it wasn't just my brain going fuzzy. I cleared my throat and smiled reassuringly at him, "Whatever happened when you were little, I'm glad you're here now. A good team always needs an idiot with fake purple hair."

He tossed the rag at me with a coy smile and I caught it, my fingers clicking as my fist closed over the wet cloth. I felt my eyebrows knit together with confusion when I had a sudden thought. "Archie," I said, swallowing the lump in my throat, "what was that you were saying about Neil just now?"

"Hmmm? Oh, yeah. Odie figured it out, Jay." He grinned widely at me, "See, the thing is… Neil isn't _really_ dead."

…

Odie's reasoning was simple – or so he told me. "Remember what Chiron said to us after we brought Athena back to the school?" I looked up at him, we were all on deck now, it was already late afternoon and Odie had come down from the crow's nest (a rare occurrence lately) especially to fill me in on the details of his discovery.

I did remember what Chiron had told us, vividly; as if he were retelling the story in front of me right now. I could feel that strange sensation working in my brain, heightening all of my memories. All of a sudden I could remember my first word when I was just over a year old.

"Yeah, he said that there could only be one version of us in a single time frame. So wherever we were originally supposed to be in Cronus' world, we escaped and then there was only this version of us," I recited, gesturing to myself and the others.

"Exactly!" Odie stabbed the air with his finger. "So when we left that time frame to come here, the other versions of us went back to their original places." He stood up straight and looked at me, "Meaning _you_ went back to being a corpse; Herry, Archie and I ended up in Tartarus; and Neil and Atlanta became the so-called Rebel Leaders."

"And Theresa…" I trailed off.

"Still MIA." Odie said.

"Wait, wait," I said, holding up my palms. "So you're saying that if one of us dies out here," _Olympus forbid_ I thought, "then we'll still be fine and dandy back in Cronus' version of New Olympia?"

"Errr…" he rubbed the back of his neck. "Theoretically, yes; but if _you_ get killed or fall off a cliff or something, Jay…" he didn't seem to want to finish his sentence.

"I'm dead either way," I stated flatly.

"There's that, and I'm not entirely certain we'll be able to retain our memories of what happened," Odie clarified. "So if we do find the rebel Neil when we get back, then he probably won't have a single clue about anything we say to him."

None of my teammates met my eyes. They'd all stood by anxiously, waiting to see my reaction to Odie's news. He'd told them all about it two days ago, while I was lying unconscious in my bed. Truthfully, I wasn't sure how to feel about this information. Odie kept warning me that it was all theoretical, and I shouldn't get my hopes up to the peak where I would get disappointed. But still, I felt relief flood over me.

Neil wasn't dead.

I could hear the waves lapping hard against the hull of the ship, my ears elevated the sound so much it was deafening. None of the others seemed to notice how loud it was. What was going on with me all of a sudden? The crest of every wave hit the boat, somehow in tune with my quickening pulse.

Something gnawed at me, and for a second I was unsure about my own relief, "Guys?" I said quietly. "You don't think Cronus knew about this?"

Herry looked confused, "What do you mean, Jay?"

"I mean, do you guys think Cronus knows about us being alive in the alternate time frame if we died here?"

"You think he might've had something to do with Neil dying?" Atlanta asked with a raised brow.

"Well, no… yes, but," I sighed. "What if he killed Neil just to rid us of our luck out here?"

Odie considered this, "And then he killed the other you as insurance that our alternate versions couldn't complete the prophecy in our stead?"

I nodded, "Yeah _that_, and... Haven't you guys noticed lately how conveniently everything's been happening?"

"Sure," Archie said, "We had the good luck of getting onto the ship in the first place, and meeting a sixteen-year-old version of Theresa when she could have been, like, two or something."

"And," Herry added, "We were still able to save your life with the whole Amazonian thing."

"What Amazonian thing?" Odie asked.

I nudged Herry in the ribs and he quickly said, "What? Oh… nothing."

Odie looked skeptical but ignored the statement and continued, "So you think that Cronus took Neil out to stop us from stumbling onto anything important?"

"Or maybe," I put my finger to my lip, "Maybe Cronus just kept Neil here long enough to use that luck to his own advantage."

"Jay," Atlanta said nervously. "Are you trying to tell us that you think we're playing into a trap?" All of their eyes met mine now, and I couldn't help but notice their somewhat crestfallen faces.

"It's not only possible," Odie said, rubbing his chin calculatingly. "It's most definitely probable."

All our faces turned to him, but I kept my thought process going. "The thing that I'm worried about," I said, "Is that Neil may not have been the only pawn Cronus was controlling."

"You're saying you think there's a traitor in our midst?" Herry asked, folding his arms over his massive chest.

I considered his idea for a while, "No, I just think that we should keep our eyes open for anything else that may seem a little too convenient or suspicious."

Atlanta was whispering something to Archie and he nodded, "Rowing duties, Jay. We don't want to be late."

I looked at him and grinned, the two of them had been covering for me these past few days. Atlanta didn't have to row normally, since she was a girl and Jason didn't make any of the girls do anything, so she'd been taking over my shifts for me. I didn't think she was too happy about being excused from hard labour because she was a girl though, but there wasn't much she could do about it.

I followed Archie and turned to face Herry. Our shifts were in the same slot but he didn't seem to want to move from where he stood, as if he were frozen in place. "Herry?" I asked. "You coming, buddy?"

He lifted his hands and pointed ahead over the ship's bowsprit. We all followed his gaze and my mouth dropped open. At first I'd put the sound off to the sea beating wildly against the ship, and I'd ignored the noise even as it had gotten louder. Dead ahead of the vessel were two enormous rocks, splitting apart slowly and crashing together faster than I could blink. The water surrounding them guzzled dangerously and as the rocks split apart suddenly, the water displacement between them pulled the ship forward with sudden jerks.

I looked around frantically and finally spotted Jason with the helmsman, holding his arms up in the air and cupping something small and white in his hands. The rocks pulled apart again and the lucid sound of the dangerous rapids encircling them made my blood run cold.

As I watched, Jason released his hold on a frightened white dove. The bird seemed skittish so far out to see and flew forward, straight in the direction of the big rocks.

The boat was tugged to its portside by the gurgling waters and my sandals lost their grip on the deck. I landed hard on the floor, skidded wildly and knocked Atlanta's feet out from under her. She crashed down over my legs, Archie and Herry gripped the bulwark to steady themselves, and Odie had completely disappeared from my view.

I prayed silently that he hadn't fallen overboard.

Over the melee of my anxious comrades, my eminent hearing tuned in to Jason's confident shouts to the helmsman, "Starboard, Euphemus! Dead centre. Full speed ahead!"

We were headed directly between the rippling boulders.

…

The myth went as follows; Jason and the Argonauts landed on an island of only shale, rocks, crevices and three moody volcanoes. Upon reaching the island, Jason and a select few crew members hiked up to a temple at the summit of a dormant volcano. They reached the sanctuary and found the island to be uninhabited, save for the emaciated King Phineas who roamed the land freely. Phineas explained to Jason that, because of Zeus' anger, harpies are sent to steal Phineas' food whenever he tries to eat.

Jason takes pity on the guy, and even though it would defy Zeus, he and his crew members kill the harpies when they arrive again to steal the food from the king.

After they freed him, Phineas pointed out two huge rocks on the horizon. They were called the Sympeglades, and they would crush anything that traveled between them. He told them to let a dove fly free through the rocks, and if the bird made it to the other side alive, the _Argo_ would easily sail through as well.

Archie had gone with a select few of the crew to investigate the island, explaining his shredded knuckles and the multiple cuts on his palms. The terrain the crew had to hike up on consisted mainly of sharp, craggy rocks that, all in all, weren't very stable and had a tendency to give way beneath you if ever you chose to trek over them. They'd spoken to King Phineas and had gotten the advice about the dove after freeing him from Zeus' punishment – Archie just so happened to modestly mention that he killed and maimed at least seven harpies by himself.

All of this happened on the second day of my short coma. The few soldiers (including Jason) left the ship shortly after dawn, finished the days' work, and were back in time for lunch.

Half the crew was now on deck to investigate the inconvenient tugging and shuddering of the boat – most of them having had their naps disturbed. What they found would make them wish they had stayed in their chambers below.

Atlanta and I managed to get back on to our feet and grab a hold of the bulwark beside Herry and Archie. Odie, I discovered with relief, was holding fast to the mizzen mast at the rear of the ship. I looked back up at Jason. He had a small array of sailors surrounding him, mainly Hercules; the helmsman, Euphemus; Atalanta; and, of course, Theresa. The rest were all unfamiliar. I was surprised at how they all managed to hold their ground so well while the rest of us may as well have been trying to stand up on a rollercoaster.

I wasn't too worried about getting through the Sympeglades, since I knew Jason and the Argonauts still made it to the Golden Fleece; but that didn't mean I wasn't slightly rattled by the idea of speeding between two massive rocks that could crush me in less than a second. My mother's words rang through my head as I tried to assure myself that we would in actual fact reach a safe haven once the rocks were cleared:

_Jason sent the little dove through the rocks with a quick gesture,_ that was where she would pretend she let a bird fly free from her palms, _and he watched as the tiny creature was swallowed by the narrowing crevice between the Sympeglades. He waited until the rocks parted again and he could just make out the little bird flying into the horizon, missing some of its tail feathers. Jason was given a new confidence and sped forward through the rocks, keeping his eyes on the setting sun before him. The whole crew held their breath as the Sympeglades loomed over them, but Jason kept a firm expression._

_He didn't tell anyone how afraid he truly was, despite the king's advice. All at once, the crew let out that long breath they held. Before the bow of the _Argo_ was the glorious fire of Apollo's sun, disappearing behind the horizon. Jason was joyous, the ship and the entire crew made it safely beyond the Sympeglades, with only a little damage befalling the stern. The whole crew celebrated, they were well on their way to Colchis, where the magical Fleece awaited their arrival._

I had a sudden thought. Odie was near the stern, clinging to one of the masts so as to not lose his footing. My mother had said the damage was only to the extreme rear of the _Argo_, so Odie was on safe ground. But I had a terrible feeling in my gut, and it wasn't my empty stomach.

I wasn't planning on losing another one of my teammates out of pure risk; not if I could help it.

"Odie!" I yelled over the waves. The Sympeglades towered over us now, casting a treacherous shadow across the deck and turning the water below us into a terrifying inky black. The ship creaked as it rocked heavily from side to side, as if the wood could tell this was a bad idea.

The wailing of rushing water was torture against my sensitized ears and I had to strain myself not to cry out. The effect was nauseating and painful, my head filled with white noise in effort to suppress the scintillating attack on my eardrums.

"Odie!" I cried again. He stared at me blankly, his features devoid of any sentiment.

I mustered a bit of strength in my arms and pushed myself away from the edge of the ship, tumbling with the noise to the mizzen mast until I smacked my arm against a solid wooden door and came to rest against a cabin wall just a few feet from where Odie was. There was a deep, angry gurgle coming from both sides of the ship, wrestling the cries of the rough rapids and overpowering the air.

The Sympeglades were rejoining themselves.

I got a strong hold on a bit of rope tangled around the door as a makeshift knob and called out again, "Odie!"

He snapped out of his daze and looked at me, seeming somewhat alarmed at our proximity. The ship drifted roughly, tossing itself on the ocean's surface as the two rocks brought on fresh, strong waves against the hull. I lost my footing once again but kept my grip on the bit of rope I had.

"Jay!" Odie called out to me. "What the heck are ya doing?"

I didn't have time to reply. The ship lolled too much to its portside and the mast Odie held on to hit the impeding boulder accelerating steadily beside it; it snapped loudly and fell away, breaking through the barrier on the vessel's side and tumbling down into the rough waters below. At the same time, Odie's legs fell out beneath him and he yelped as he slid along the now almost-vertical deck, straight toward the gap in the barricade and a hard fall into the salty rapids between the giant rocks.

"No!" I screamed. I couldn't hear myself over the chaos. Without thinking, I let go of the rope and skidded down the angled deck after him.

I fell against the bit of the bulwark that was still intact and managed to grab a handful of Odie's tunic before he slipped completely overboard. I could feel tiny slivers of wood embedding themselves into my shoulder where I pressed my weight against the splintered barricade. Odie turned around as best he could and grabbed hold of my wrist. I couldn't see his face, he was dangling too far over the lip of the opening, but I could feel his weight fisted in the fabric I hung on to, and the warmth of his skinny hands pressing against my wrist and forearm. That was enough to convince me I could save him from the sickly, watery grave below.

Light hit my eyes suddenly – sunlight; but I didn't dare look away from the opening in the wood. Though the Sympeglades were sealing the gap between them, the ship had managed to make it through. A splitting pinch against the stern of the ship that I could just make out over the sound of my thrumming heartbeat told me that the rudder had been torn off; but the displaced water coming out between the gap in the Sympeglades pushed us away from the looming danger at a terrible speed.

Blue water shun around us again, glittering the crew in the assurance that we were now safe from imminent doom. My ears rung with the gentleness of the waves, and the blood rushed to my face as I tried to keep my grip on Odie's tunic. I could feel his nails digging into my skin as he held on while the _Argo_ tried to steady itself.

I was exhausted. Jason's voice was so soft against the volume of my pounding head that I almost didn't hear him. "Jay," he said. I was pretty sure he may have been yelling at me, but my mind couldn't really tell the difference.

He went over to the other side of the broken barricade and reached down, yelling down to Odie. I wasn't listening to him; I only remained focused on not letting my teammate drown. Jason pulled hard and tugged Odie up so that his torso was now on the deck.

Hercules was there too, coming out from behind my line of sight and getting a fistful of the back of Odie's tunic. The two of them hauled him up and Odie let go of my arm. My hand uncurled stiffly from his clothing and I saw little red crescents along my flesh where Odie had dug his nails in.

Odie was panting heavily beside me, Jason and Hercules kneeling around him. I felt my breath catch every time I inhaled. I wanted to throw up. Odie looked at me and smiled. I grinned back at him despite the sudden onslaught of butterflies in my stomach.

I didn't know who started it, but the four of us were soon laughing like madmen. The boat rocked normally again in the calmer Mediterranean water, and I could feel my anxiety leaving me with every mile we put between us and those oversized supernatural pebbles.

I clapped Odie on the back once I had caught my breath and both Hercules and Jason had left to check on the rest of the crew. "How you feeling?" I asked him with a slight smile.

He was still panting when he smirked at me, "Like I never want to set foot on another boat again."

…

As it turns out, Odie and I weren't the only ones clinging onto life in a desperate moment. Several members of the crew suffered head injuries from the turbulence – including Atlanta and the helmsman, Euphemus.

Odie and I made it to the girl's cabin, which was shared between Atlanta, Atalanta, and Theresa. We stood outside with Herry and a brooding Archie, neither of them looked very happy to see us. Herry filled us in on the details: once I had detached myself from the bulwark to go after Odie, Atlanta and Herry tried to follow. They had bad timing and along with the ship's lolling from side to side; Atlanta had slipped and smacked her head against the deck before Herry could catch her.

As it turns out, Herry's shoulder dislocated on impact with the deck when he fell, and he was cradling his arm with his other hand. We would have to pop it back in again, and I knew that wasn't going to be pretty.

Needless to say Archie blamed himself for not reacting quickly enough. Herry felt terrible too, but not one of us blamed the other for anything that happened. If anything, the fault was mine – I should have had a better grasp on the situation and given out direct orders. But this thing that had been messing with my senses since I woke up had me distracted.

"Is she going to be okay?" Odie asked while poking and prodding Herry's arm innocently, a slight quiver evident in his voice. I guess he was still a little bit spooked by what happened earlier.

"Yeah," Herry answered. "Jason put Theresa and Atalanta in charge of taking care of her."

Archie scoffed under his breath. I knew that I was the only one picking it up, and I knew why he felt so dejected. He still didn't trust Theresa, especially not now that she had to tend to Atlanta's health.

I cleared my throat. "Well, seeing as there's nothing more we can do," I ignored Archie's timid glare, "I say we go get something to eat."

Herry perked up at this, "Finally," he said, "I'm starving!"

Archie came along grudgingly, and I had a feeling that he would be camping out at the girl's cabin for a while. Nevertheless, it was reassuring to get back down to the kitchen's atmosphere again. Dinner had already been served and I left the other three in the noisy galley before descending into the corridor that led to the kitchen.

It may only have been a second thought, but I was worried about Basil and Flea's wellbeing after the day's events. I felt a sudden inflection of warmth at the thought of the cook's tenderness and happy-go-lucky disposition. Flea's outright innocence also managed to tug at my heartstrings, and even though it may have been a dysfunctional connection, there was a certain degree of unspoken affection between the three of us. I'd been accepted by both of them, and in turn held them dear.

For the umpteenth time that day, my heart swelled with sudden relief. Basil was in the kitchen, sweeping up broken crockery and whistling his happy tune. It flooded my sensitive ears with pleasantness. He smiled at me as I walked past him into the fresh produce room to check on Flea.

The door creaked open and I noticed the room was surprisingly neat, cages clean, vegetables piled cleanly. There was no sign of Flea, but admittedly, the animals were unnervingly quiet. They were all watching me, the beady eyes of the chickens, the glassy ogle of the goat and its kid. For a fleeting moment I felt a little self-conscious; but that was just ridiculous.

The silence was heavy, and I heard something, dull but definite. It certainly wasn't coming from in here, but I had a sudden thought and decided to investigate. Climbing over into the goat's pen, I lifted the wooden trapdoor beneath a pile of hay and eased myself down into the opening.

My feet hit the planks of wood beneath me and I was submerged in darkness as the lamp in the room above me blew out. It must've been lit for quite a long time already.

Nevertheless, I found the wall and sidled along the narrow wooden warren, listening for any inkling of sound. A flash of common sense told me it was probably very foolhardy to come down here without Flea to guide me, and I wondered again where he had disappeared to.

The air became musty, smelling almost similar to the fresh produce room. I heard the sound again over my own footfalls, it was close by. I could only describe it as a hollow thud.

I kneaded my forehead and the wall fell back, sharpening into a corner. There was a faint hint of light before me and I felt my breathing become ragged. Lantern-light spilled out beneath a pair of solid iron double-doors and I heard the thudding again, several times, as if someone were stamping their feet repeatedly.

My natural curiosity took over, and of course the situation was ineluctable. With a prepared stance and a quick push against the steel, the doors swung open.

Flea gasped when I stepped into the room's light. His eyes were as big and round as saucers. I think he may have stopped breathing when I came into the room, trying and failing to hide the enormous _thing_ behind him.

"Flea," my voice faltered and caught in my throat. "What is _that_?"

…

_**I am perfectly horrid aren't I?**_

_**I wonder where all this could lead… it certainly won't be pretty *grins evilly***_

_**I'd love to hear your theories.**_

_**As always, please leave a review if you found it enjoyable. Constructive criticism welcome.**_

_**Mwahahaha!**_


	19. Chapter 18: DoubleEdged Duplicity

_**Hey everyone!**_

_**I finally managed an update (took long enough).**_

_**Anyway, thanks to all who reviewed – HoneyGoddess5, Emma and Tinian I'att. You guys are absolutely awesome!**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**P.S. There's a little surprise I left at the end of the chapter for you guys.**_

…

_Chapter 18_

_Double-Edged Duplicity_

"Land ho!" the lookout cried enthusiastically. Colchis was in sight, and the helmsmen let the ship point its bowsprit in a southerly direction with a whine. The crew on deck almost lost their marbles with excitement and cheering erupted when the crested green island bubbled into view on the horizon. As far as they knew, this was their last stop before finding the Golden Fleece and gaining safe passage home in victory.

Who was I to spoil their moods?

It was early morning, the day after the incident with the Sympeglades. There had been a headcount at dinner, and there was a tally of seven deaths and thirty-two injuries. This bothered me more than it should have. I knew Atlanta was among the injured, though I hadn't been filled in on the details of her condition beyond a simple claim of extreme concussion and loss of consciousness, but I was confident that she was in good hands and would be back on her feet in no time.

No, what bothered me was that there were that many deaths. There shouldn't have been any as far as I was concerned. The story of the Argonauts claimed the Sympeglades had only caused damage to the stern of the _Argo_; and yet one of the masts had snapped in half and nearly killed one of my best friends. No one was supposed to die.

Not for the first time, I felt a wave of paranoia wash over me. I had a terrible feeling that there may have been something else at play, something I was missing from the equation. The sensation made me feel somewhat queasy.

My mind reeled back to Flea.

He looked honestly scared of what I might do to him last night, as if he expected to be throttled. In truth, I was much too stunned to pay any attention to him. The thing that had stood behind him was enormous. Its mane was jet black and speckled with silver; it had an inky flank and ears that were alert and upright, eyes glowing bottomless in the lamplight. But what had me speechless were its wings. Though they were folded against its sides, the animal huffed nervously, hooves fluttering noisily against the wooden floor in agitation. I'd never seen a Pegasus before – of course there were many drawings and digital interpretations in mythology books – but not up close.

After Flea had calmed the animal down, and I managed to find my words again, I asked him to sit down with me on the only bench in that tiny room. He had fidgeted like there would be no tomorrow, his nervousness harrowing his resolve even more. I was almost afraid that he would start crying at one point. Once he had calmed down enough, he told me that the animal's name was Coal, and that the Pegasus was his one and only gift from Basil when he was a young boy.

"It's extremely rare to find a Pegasus, especially near where we used to live. Basil found him when he was out collecting kindling one night. He'd said that he was now mine and I had to watch over him." He stopped and his face contorted as if he'd eaten something very sour, "Coal was… he was the only friend I'd ever had."

I did the only thing anyone would have done when they heard those words: I reached over and gave him a hug. His tears started coming immediately, strong sobs making his shoulders bounce as he grabbed onto my sleeves and buried his head against my chest. The boy was so frail and his weeping wrenched at my heartstrings. Even Coal, still wary of my presence, clip-clopped slowly over to us. The room wasn't very big, so I couldn't help feeling a little warm and claustrophobic with both Flea and Coal so close to me.

I reached up to pet Coal's muzzle with my one hand, the other still patting Flea's back, and he snorted at me, but bent his neck down so that I could get my hand up high enough to stroke his ears. For a moment I wondered if the two of us would be able to get along, seeing as I never was very good with animals, especially griffins; but it seemed as if Coal were willing to tolerate me.

Not for the first time, I felt somewhat protective of the small boy I was cradling. His innocent demeanor was almost overwhelming and, despite his grimy appearance, I guess I may have developed a bit of a soft spot for him.

Flea stopped his crying after a few more hectic sobs and fell asleep against my shoulder soon after. Coal sniffed my hair and face as I stroked him, deep in thought about the day's events.

I sighed and pushed my hair back out of my face – it was getting much too long for my liking – as Archie slumped down into the seat across from me, letting his face fall into his scarred hands. The galley was practically empty now, everyone up on deck trying to catch a glimpse of the island of Colchis. I wondered how they never got bored of seeing land masses so far away – they all looked the same to me.

"You're up early," I said softly, getting Archie to look up at me.

He grabbed a pear from my plate and took a large bite, spraying juice across the table. "Never slept."

I smirked at him, "You watching over your girlfriend, Mr. Guardian Angel?" He took another bite and glared at me. I cleared my throat, "How is she?"

He looked down at the small trail of pear juice he'd streaked on the table, no animation evident in his expression. He looked like his normal sullen self. "Nothing new, still catatonic."

"You get a chance to see her?"

"Snuck in when Atalanta left for dinner."

"You're a regular Romeo, Arch." He threw his half-eaten fruit at me and accidentally managed to nick Herry in the face as he was coming over to take a seat.

Herry grimaced at the squashed fruit, "You know, if you wanted me to go sit at another table, you could have just asked."

I smirked at him and shifted over to make space on the edge of the bench for him. "Either of you spoken to Odie recently?" he asked as he collapsed his weight onto the seat beside me.

Archie popped one of my grapes into his mouth and let his head rest on one hand. "Nope," he said helpfully.

"I think he may still be a little shaken up about what happened to him yesterday. I know I am," I offered.

Herry helped himself to the fruit still left on my plate. "I know, but didn't we agree that if anything happened to us here we would still end up okay in a different timeline?"

"Yeah, I know we did, Herry." I looked up at him, "But that doesn't mean any of us want to end up somewhere else with no memories of what happened to us out here."

"You're worried about Neil," Archie said flatly.

I looked at him and felt my throat tighten. Of course I was worried about Neil. I hoped Odie's theory was correct, that he would just be ignorant of traveling to the past with us, that he would be okay… that he wouldn't be dead.

I swallowed my anxiety. "Aren't you?"

He shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be? I've had to live with the guy for almost two years. I have to be worried about him, seeing as there's no way he could survive without that mirror of his."

"Can you ever stop being so pessimistic?" Herry asked with a full mouth. I smiled at him and Archie stuck his tongue out at us, giving his attention back to another grape he plucked off of my plate.

Archie's eyebrows rose with incredible speed, "Don't look now, Jay."

"What?"

"The demonic she-witch you call a girlfriend is coming this way."

I resisted the urge to punch him, but sure enough, I felt a soft touch against my shoulder. I turned around and looked up at Theresa. Her hair was braided down her back and her eyes were pointed down at me with some degree of urgency. "Could I speak with you for a moment, Jay?"

"I guess," I said slowly. "Take a seat." She glanced at Herry and Archie nervously, almost suspiciously. "It's fine, Theresa. This is Herry," I indicated to him and he gave her a nod. She returned it, "And the loudmouth skeptic over there is Archie." He stuck his tongue out at me. "You can trust them with whatever you have to say."

She seemed hesitant but sat down across from me, beside a groaning Archie, and folded her hands together on the table. "About what I was going to tell you the other night," she looked around the galley, there were only two other tables that were occupied and none of them seemed particularly interested in the girl that was whispering to us. She dropped her voice to a whisper, "About Jason."

I cleared my throat, a wave of memories flooding back to me. Her fist almost connecting with my face, her lips soft against mine, her painful expression when I pulled away from her… all of it. I'd pushed it to the back of my mind in light of recent events, but her presence now triggered the same pulses of emotion I'd felt that night when we were alone on the deck.

But her expression remained serious. Archie and Herry were leaning forward with slight interest in what she had to say, but she kept her gaze fixed on me. For the first time since I gave her that flower from Hypnos' cave in the underworld, I felt my cheeks starting to heat up with an intense fury. I tried to keep my voice casual but it cracked on my first syllable, "Go on."

Herry gave me an odd look and Archie scowled, but Theresa didn't seem at all perturbed by my embarrassment. "I won't be able to tell you the specifics, but we'll be making port in Colchis soon. You have to know, you cannot trust Jason."

"And why not?" Archie pointed the question rather harshly, his head still leaning on his hand.

"Because," Theresa almost glared at him, "He is not who he claims to be. Do not be misled by anything he says to you, and do not confront him alone. Things may not end well for you even if you try to reason with him."

"And why are you telling me this now?" I asked, folding my arms over my chest.

"You have to understand, Jay," she glanced at Herry and Archie, "I have my own reasons for trying to help you."

Archie's face lit up suddenly and I knew he was about to burst out in some form of protest. I silenced him with a swift kick to the shin. He jumped in his seat and glared at me, letting air puff his cheeks in silent anger.

"I have to leave now… before he realizes I'm gone. Think about what I said, Jay. And please, take it to heart." She stood up and marched away determinedly, pausing only to turn and nod a farewell to Herry and give me one more serious look.

Archie burst out suddenly, "What in Zeus' name just happened?" his nostrils flared ferociously. "What does she mean she's trying to help us? She's been messing with your head for over a month, Jay! Not to mention she put you in a coma for almost four days. Why are you letting her push you around like this, man? If I had my way-"

"Archie, would you shut up!" Herry bellowed suddenly. I practically jumped in my seat when I heard his voice boom. I'd planned on just letting Archie finish his rant and giving him a month to get over it, but clearly Herry had other plans. "I'm tired of hearing you groan so much about everything that's going on! For one thing, what's happened so far isn't Theresa's fault, nor is it Jay's. We don't even know if it's Cronus' doing either. And just quit glaring at everybody as if they gave Atlanta a concussion, it was an accident." He stood up, scraping the whole bench back across the floor, me included. "And if I ever hear you talking about Neil like that again while we don't know if he's okay, I will throw you into the Mediterranean with an anchor tied to your throat, got it?"

Herry didn't wait for an answer. With his face still contorted in fury, he stalked out of the galley. I glanced at Archie. His face was painted with shock at Herry's sudden outburst, mouth hanging half open. His eyes narrowed venomously at the doorway, fists tightening on top of the table. He stood up with the same scrape of his bench like Herry, veins almost popping out of his temples, and stomped out of the door after him. I grabbed at his wrist before he could get away. "Arch, don't-" he shook me off without even looking at me and carried on walking without pause or misstep.

All eyes in the galley were focused on me. I sighed, plucked a grape off of my plate, and prayed that the two of them wouldn't pick a fight on deck.

…

Colchis was picturesque in the noon-time sun, and for one thing, was much larger than I had anticipated. There were mountain ranges on the eastern side, separated from the mainland by a valley tangled in tall, wormy trees and acres of fields and farmland. The one end was inhabited by a series of cylindrical citadels and spires, vines creeping in and out around various canals and archways. Although, it seemed to have an awfully tiny harbor for such a magnetizing metropolis.

I'd gotten off of the ship with a horde of crewmembers the first chance I got. There was too much tension aboard the creaking vessel, and I was right glad to leave it behind for a while. Archie walked ahead of me between a crowd of smiling faces, Herry paced a few steps just behind with a group of young gigglers. Jason was at the head of our pirate parade, and a glimmer of warm golden hair told me Theresa was right by his side. I couldn't help but scowl.

I needed to talk to her.

Things suddenly started making sense. Since I'd first met her out here, she'd seemed extremely fiery and temperamental, and I'd put it off to her having grown up in a different environment compared to how her father had raised her before. But now I could tell that her heated demeanor was in fact an assured determination. She was up to something. I could tell she had some sort of hidden agenda by the way she held her chin up. However, I still couldn't make heads or tails of whether or not she even cared about what had happened between us on the deck that one night.

I suddenly felt guilty that I'd yelled at her and accused her of being gutless. Was her sudden aloofness an attempt at proving me wrong? Did I really regret kissing her like that? No. Did I regret to admit having feelings for this Theresa when I was certain that I hardly even knew anything about her?

I didn't know.

I looked ahead to where Jason suddenly stopped leading our procession. Our throng of crewmen had come to a halt, and I elbowed my way through until I got near enough to the front to be involved in what was going on. Jason was speaking to a rather large man in an undersized tunic that exposed a little too much of his chest; a thick, golden circlet was meshed in his dark brown curls, and his red cheeks bulged as he spoke. He was obviously the king of Colchis, Aeetes. I didn't bother listening in, as far as I was concerned – well I wasn't really concerned at all actually – but I knew this was all just a formality, and that the king would soon lead Jason away to have one glass of fermented grape juice too many. Introductions were made between the king's ensemble of relatives and servants and Jason's second commanders and closer crewmembers. I took my chance after the king bellowed a welcome to the whole of the crew and led Jason and a few others up through a high set of main doors. The rest of us were free to disperse and roam the island as we pleased.

With a few swift steps, I came up behind Theresa, wrung my hand around her wrist, and pulled her aside before she could follow after Jason. I led her into a tiny niche between doorways and spun her around to face me.

"Theresa," I said in low tones, "We have to talk."

She huffed and folded her arms. "What do you want, Jay."

That stung a bit, "Nice to see you too. Anyway, I have to get this out of the way, because you are confusing me to no end."

She tapped her foot in expectation, "Well?"

"About what happened the other night with-"

"Oh, for Hera's sake, Jay. Why was that kiss such a problem to you?"

"Don't tell me you haven't thought about it at all! Besides, all I really wanted to know was…"

"What?" her green eyes glinted.

"Did you feel anything for me when it happened?"

This seemed to catch her off guard. "Wait… Jay, I-"

"I just need you to trust me, Theresa. I need you to tell me how you feel about me, and whether or not I can trust you when you hardly feed me any information at all."

My expression seemed to convince her how serious I was. "Well how am I supposed to trust you when you won't even tell me anything about yourself, Jay?"

"Stop being so stubborn and just answer my question." I tightened my grip on her wrist and pulled her closer to me. She stood so stiffly I had to yank her to get her closer to me. She was still a head shorter than me, and I could easily wrap my other arm around her shoulders and pin her against my chest. She didn't meet my eyes. "Please, Theresa. I need to know. I would leave my life in your hands in a heartbeat… do you trust me?"

"How can you say all of this? You barely even know who I am."

"I've been involved in more than enough life-or-death situations with you since we met. I believe I'm entitled to my own interpretations of character."

"What if you're obliviously wrong?"

"I highly doubt it."

"You shouldn't say that!" Her shoulders collapsed in my arms and I could feel her jaw tighten. "Yes," she whispered almost inaudibly, "I trust you, Jay; more than you think."

A sigh of sudden relief escaped my lips. I let go of her wrist and lifted her face up so that she could look at me. For the first time, I noticed a series if bruises trailing down her jaw line from both of her temples. "Theresa, what happened?" I stroked my thumb along the side of her face.

Her eyes started watering slowly as she looked up at me, and she bit down on her tongue. I pulled her close to me again and buried my face in her hair as she started shaking with a sudden, terrific onslaught of sobs. Her arms went around me and she pulled herself closer, I strengthened my hold as well. Her body was familiar, not soft or delicate, but strong and independent.

I missed being able to hold her.

"Jay," she choked against me as I began rubbing slow circles against her back, feeling her scars as my palm grazed her shoulders. I'd forgotten about them, and their memory suddenly made me angry. "What are you doing here?"

I sighed, "You have no idea how much I want to tell you the truth, Theresa." I lifted my head away from her hair and she peeked up at me. "But now isn't the right time. I promised you before that I would tell you everything. I don't plan on breaking that promise."

"I have to tell you something else too, Jay." She swallowed. "Trust Basil, trust Flea. They'll never hurt you. Trust your friends too, listen to them. You can trust Hercules and Atalanta too, but whatever you do, Jay… please don't trust anybody else… not even me."

…

_**Woohoo! Super short chapter I know. That's because I currently have a boatload of exams that I'm studying for… I lied, there's no way I'm studying. Procrastination FTW! Expect a follow-up pretty soon!**_

_**And by the way, about Herry's little outburst, I don't care if it seemed out of character for him. I hate that the show made him seem so dense, he has thoughts and feelings and observations too. I get that it's a kid's show, but that still doesn't justify how lovable he is. I believe that he has a right to think for himself!**_

_**Please excuse the rant. I will go eat a cookie and get over it.**_

_**Anyway, back to that surprise I mentioned earlier, here's a little teaser for part three. :P**_

_**Enjoy!**_

…

_Archie glared at me with his good eye and pointed at a sleeping Odie. "You really expect me to believe that that happened by chance? People don't just come back from the dead, Jay. And they certainly don't reappear as six-year-olds!"_

"_Look, Archie," I did my best not to glare back at him. "I already told you the whole story, and I know you can be hotheaded. If you didn't want to believe me, then why did you come back?"_

"_It's not that I didn't _want_ to believe you. Stop being such a drama queen."_

"_We both know you're more of a drama queen than all of us. Why are you even here?"_

"_I told you before, Jay, a long time ago." He straightened his back and took a wobbly step forward. "Some people are just worth losing an eye for."_

…

_**What did you think?**_

_**Please leave a review or I will cry. Constructive criticism necessary.**_


	20. Chapter 19: Once Bitten, Twice Shy

_**Thanks for all the reviews guys! Hugs go out to Emma, Tinian I'att, classofthetitans711 and Neonz. It's unfair how awesome you all are :D**_

_**Pardon the delay, please? Even though it was a bit of a long one, I do have a valid excuse… sort of ^^" but I won't ramble on about my problems.**_

_**Please enjoy!**_

…

_Chapter 19_

_Once Bitten, Twice Shy_

"Three tasks!" King Aeetes bellowed. "To be completed before sunset by you and you alone. Each more difficult than the last, they will determine whether or not you are worthy of possessing the Golden Fleece, young Jason, son of Aeson and _rightful_ king of Iolcos." He held up a tiny goblet between his pudgy fingers and downed its contents in one quick gulp, pink-faced and smiling.

Jason knelt down in front of the small platform where the king stood while he made his speech, his back to me. I was palled behind one of the many thick classical Greek pillars scattered across the palace floor that were either supporting the three-ton, marbled ceiling above us, or were just thrown into the room to boast. Theresa had dragged me into the large, white room with her, but I refused to go any further than where I stood now, fearing that I could be thrown out of the meeting by a group of gorilla-sized palace guards for not having enough authority to withhold my presence. She now stood beside Hercules with her hands folded unassumingly together in front of her, occasionally shooting me glances to make sure I was still in attendance.

I stopped listening to Aeetes because I knew that the rest of his rambling held more pomposity than it did importance. Instead, my gaze drifted over the small crowd gathered in the room, every face passive and intent on the king's words. Dozens of waxen servants stood nearby, dressed in dull grays against the palace's crisp white walls, not drawing any attention to themselves. Their drab appearance was a stark comparison to the bright colors worn by the few women that were fanning themselves religiously and lounging about on divans, looking overheated and bored by the affairs that were taking place. Most of them looked quite similar, eyes half drooping and faces devoid of anything other than acquisitive composure.

The higher officers of the _Argo_'s crew stood so resolute and regal, I was pondering on the thought of whether or not they all had broomsticks stuck straight up their-

"Will you be allowing anyone to accompany Jason while he performs his tasks, father?" A voice broke through my thoughts and my eyes snapped over to a young girl standing in some of the only shadows in the whitewashed room. She stepped into the light as she addressed the king, and I felt my jaw drop in sudden awe.

'Beautiful' simply didn't justify her looks; and I couldn't think of any other words that would. Her wispy hair was the color of cinnamon, skin smooth, inquisitive eyes sparkling a clear, lime green. She was tall and dressed in a modest lavender tunic that fell down to her sandaled feet, her dainty hands clasped together in front of her. I heard a sharp intake of breath from all the crewmen in the room, Jason even lifted his head to lock his gaze with hers. All attention snapped to goddess that stood before us and some of the servants rolled their eyes at blatancy, clearly accustomed to everyone having their minds fill with clouds and smoky fog whenever she entered a room.

The king cleared his throat and most of us snapped out of the daze we were trapped in, but Jason still had his focus trained on the girl. Thankfully, the king wasn't paying any of his royal attention to us. He sighed heftily, "No, Medea. I already mentioned that Jason would be facing these tasks by himself."

"Perhaps from the sidelines, father?" her voice drizzled honey. "Do you really expect him to be able to finish these tasks by himself before the sun sets?"

His big nostrils flared, "I said no, Medea; no help from anyone. It is not my decision, it is that of the gods, and he who blessed the Golden Fleece. So help me Zeus; anyone caught assisting him will be tried and sentenced to _death_!"

She looked like she was about to interject, but thought better of it, "Yes, father."

The king looked satisfied by this, "Leave us now. We have matters to attend to."

She made a slight bow, shot a look back at Jason that seemed to say she wasn't quite finished with him, and stepped silently out of the room. The king sniffed royally and continued his babbling.

I lost interest again. Most of the people in the room regained their composure, the lounging women turning up their noses, and gave their attention back to their fans. I took a breath and looked at Theresa; her fists were curled so tightly at her sides I thought her nails would cut right through her palms. I said a silent prayer that she would cool down before I spoke to her again.

So that was Medea. Madelia, her crazy descendent who tried to kill me, didn't pay her looks very much credit; and that was saying plenty. But, Medea _was_ a sorceress, so I doubted her appearance was altogether natural. Still, that didn't mean I shouldn't be watching my back.

…

The meeting adjourned a little while later, and every member of the crew dispersed with glum expressions and a lot of neck rubbing. Jason's first task was simple, as the king put it. He had to yoke two fire-breathing bulls, and then plough an entire field. I wasn't at all worried about how he would cope; I knew that Medea would end up helping him. What I was really worried about was the sunset. It was already mid-morning, and Jason had more than a day's work ahead of him. Even if he managed to complete all three tasks, he would be cutting it close.

I strayed from the throng of people exiting the building, and snuck up behind Theresa, pulling her quickly behind a branchy olive tree. She pouted at me, "Jay, what are you doing?"

"You heard what the king said," I almost stumbled over my words. "Three tasks, each more difficult than the last…" I wanted to grab her hand to keep her from running off, but Theresa didn't look calm enough yet, so I fought the tendency.

"And?"

"And no help from anybody," I answered nervously. "Do you really think Jason can fight a living barbecue and plough a field _alone_ before the day is over?"

"A living what? Jay, I know it sounds hopeless." She bit her lip, "But I might know a way to help."

"Really?" I folded my arms. "Please, elaborate."

She rolled her eyes and started in a whisper, "That whole thing about you and Jason looking alike… it could work to our advantage."

I narrowed my eyes, determined not to give too much away, "How? He's all buff and rugged, I'm… well…" I spread my hands.

Theresa cocked an eyebrow. "Have you seen yourself lately? The two of you could very well be twins, Jay; right down to your egos."

I groaned, "Never mind. What's this idea of yours, then?"

"Yes, please, Theresa, do tell." Both of us jumped at Jason's sudden appearance. He looked mildly amused and not half as stressed out as I'd have expected him to be. Medea was hanging on to his elbow with a passive expression, giving the two of us a thorough once-over. I couldn't help but feel overly self-conscious at the way her eyes drifted over me, pausing briefly when they met mine. "What's this about us being twins?" Jason glanced at me pugnaciously.

Theresa cleared her throat. She was standing right next to me, pressing nearer and I felt her fingers curling anxiously around my elbow. By her stance, she seemed calm and calculated, even somewhat arrogant; but her grip against my arm convinced me otherwise. If I hadn't known Theresa's habits beforehand, I may even have fallen for the show she was putting on. I was only vaguely aware of Medea's eyes slowly narrowing at the two of us.

"I've thought of a way to even our odds against your deadline, Jason," Theresa said firmly.

Jason grinned mordantly. "Scheming behind my back are we?" Theresa's nails started digging into my skin at his words. He turned his sardonic smile on me, "And let me guess, it involves Jay, doesn't it?"

"Yes, actually it does," Theresa put on a biting smile of her own. "I don't know if you've noticed the similarities concerning your looks, Jason. The rest of the crew certainly has."

"Oh I see, gossip. Is _that_ how you get away with it?" he sneered. His aggression had me caught between wanting to back away from him and the urge to snarl at his advance.

Theresa kept her expression solid, "I don't _have_ to help you."

Jason laughed, "Oh, I know you don't." He took a step closer. "But I also know that you'll do it anyway." The two of them stared at each other pointedly, noses nearly touching. I would have recoiled if Medea hadn't slinked into the space between them, gently forcing the two away from each other's faces.

"Please, let's not have a spat so near the palace." She looked at me, "I'm sure Jay's input will be of great use to us, Jason." Her light green eyes were so intense, I could feel myself melting into them. Everything around me started dissipating, until it was only her gaze that mattered. I could no longer feel the marbled floor beneath my feet, nor could I hear the ocean that had been lulling the citadel since we'd arrived. I drifted slowly, lazily, getting lost inside her humming stare; a weight started building gradually on my shoulders, rolling down my body.

"Jay? Jay? Jay!"

I snapped to attention with Theresa's fingers clicking impatiently in front of my face. "Wha- _what_?" I looked down at her, standing with her hands on her hips and a furrow in her brow. "What's the matter with you, Theresa?"

My ears dulled out and started ringing slightly. My head felt uncomfortably clouded.

"Where were you for the past minute?" Medea said with a small smile. "You didn't seem to have any life in your eyes at all."

I couldn't help but gulp when she looked at me; the twist in her lips made me feel more than slightly uneasy. Theresa now had her hands to herself, but my elbow still burned where her nails had me. Medea only looked amused at the situation but Jason seemed positively exasperated. I felt like an anchor crashed into my skull, everything felt eerily quiet… what just happened to me?

He raked a hand through his shaggy hair and sighed, "And you really expect me to put my trust in someone who loses their focus so quickly, Theresa?"

She clicked her tongue at him, "I'm not asking you to marry him, Jason. As I was saying, Jay can be your stand in when the need arises."

"That way you won't waste all of your strength during your tasks," Medea grinned at her. "I like the way you think, Theresa."

"Excuse me," I interrupted, "But did we just skip the part where I actually consented to this?"

"I don't actually see a flaw in the plan," Jason said with a bored shrug, though he glowered at me slightly. I'd noticed his lip twitch fractionally when Theresa said the word 'marry'.

I grunted, "Oh no, of course not. Silly me, maybe it was just the part about being put to death if we got caught, or the fact that we're up against a couple of cows that _breathe fire_."

"No need to be dramatic," Jason contributed. I growled at him.

"He's right about the death penalty," Medea said matter-of-factly. "But I can help with the fire." She reached into a tiny fold of a pocket at the side of her tunic and pulled out a small, silver flask. "It's herbal salve blessed by the god Hephaestus; completely fireproof." She handed it to Jason, looking smug, and he pulled the cork away from the top, sniffing dubiously at its contents.

"It smells horrific," he declared as he pulled away with a wrinkled nose.

"Of course it does." Medea folded her arms, "What were you expecting? Honeysuckle preserve?"

"Well, certainly not the hindquarters of a mountain giant, ugh!" Jason put the cap back on and handed the flask to me, it was surprisingly cool to the touch. "If anything, it would be unwise to wear that during their mating season," he carried on.

Medea giggled and Theresa gave him a small snort of amusement. The three of them looked at me as I inspected the small flask. It was plain silver, no patterns adorning its surface. I was struck by its less-than-flamboyant appearance as I knew most Ancient Greek trinkets were mercilessly decorated with its even more ancient history. It was too small though, to wash away my concerns and I felt an austere suspicion creep up on me.

"So will you help us, Jay?" Medea asked, a chary glint in her eyes.

I glanced at Theresa's stiff expression, but I still felt hesitant. Jason lifted his eyebrows at me expectantly. For some reason, this action seemed to stir something up inside me and I resisted the urge to growl at him again. "Fine, I'll hang around the sidelines and help out when you need it. But don't expect me to jump in after you and save your behind every time a bull snorts at you."

He grinned at me, "Wouldn't dream of it."

…

I'd contemplated filling in Herry and Archie about my decision to help Jason with his first task; but in the end I'd thought better of it. For one thing, they were probably still furious about the fight they'd had this morning; but that wasn't the real reason I felt like keeping them in the dark. I didn't need them over my shoulder about everything. Yes, I understood that if I died defending my ancestor I wouldn't be resurrected in another timeline like they would; but the way Jason had looked down on me… as if he were challenging me – I couldn't let just let him walk over me that way.

It just felt better not to tell them.

I looked out at the expanse of long grass where Jason was rallying the two bulls with ease, narrowly avoiding their blasts of heat every few seconds. The field was long and rectangular for the most part, but there was a small indent in its shape where it sunk and the sharp edge of a cliff cut in. Upon that cliff stood the palace and its many jagged citadels and balconies, which no doubt was occupied by the pudgy king and his ensemble of sallow serfs, sipping nectar and fanning off insects in the heat while watching my ancestor's escapades.

There was a tiny niche at the foot of the cliff, with enough of an angle to shield it from the eyes of the crew and townspeople who watched and cheered Jason on from behind a series of stone fences. This was where I sat, brooding of course, with little to no view of Jason. I only occasionally saw his head bobbing up and down over the crest of the small hill that hid the cave as he wrestled with one of the bulls, but was left with no more of an inclination to his state of health. Medea had explained that the only reason this field was left in such disarray was because the king anticipated the arrival of many warriors intent on claiming the Golden Fleece. She'd given very little away about whether or not anyone had ever tried; and if so, whether anyone had ever succeeded. All the same, her presence made me nervous, and I was rather glad that she was watching from the balconies above with her father.

Theresa, however, sat cross-legged on the floor of the cave beside me with closed eyes and pursed lips. Whether she was meditating or pouting, I wasn't entirely sure; so I left her to it. Three pails of water awaited use alongside the cave wall in case anyone got badly burned, the small flask of herbal salve, half-empty courtesy of Jason, lay neatly beside it, glinting slightly in the noon-time sun.

I looked at Theresa. Not for the first time, I felt like I was pressured into doing this, but with her sitting right there, I was sort of appeased. A small fraction of my brain was tensing at the thought that what I was doing was purely the result of teenage hormones making me do dangerous things to impress a girl. It wasn't wrong.

"Are you just going to keep staring at me with that sullen expression the whole time, Jay?" I snapped back to reality; I hadn't realized Theresa had been surveying me with one open eye for the past few minutes.

I cleared my throat, "Can't help it. Too much on my mind."

She opened her other eye and turned her attention to me, "Very well, what's troubling you?"

"Why are you and Jason fighting?" I blurted out, clapping a hand over my mouth.

She looked taken aback and bit her lip, "Oh, um... well, he…"

"Yes?" I prompted.

She sighed, "He doesn't trust me around you, Jay."

"Well, that's obvious." She shot me a venomous look and I held up my hands, "What? It is." I inched closer beside her and she looked down at her hands in her lap. A raucous cheer from the crowds could be heard in the distance.

"He's under the impression that I don't want to marry him anymore because he isn't exciting enough for me, and…"

My cheeks reddened, "And he thinks I'm trying to pull you away from him."

She nodded, not meeting my eyes, "The crew notices things, and even though I have high enough authority on the ship… Hercules still manages to catch on to the rumours and report them to Jason. Granted, the only difference between the two of you was your clothing, so they didn't always pick up on whether it was you or Jason I was talking with."

"But you kept at it anyway. Why?"

She looked at me then, startled by the question. "Because you were the only other person on that ship that wasn't head-over-heels for the journey." She leaned into me slightly, "You weren't blinded by that insipid sense of adventure like everyone else was. If anything your aura demeaned the whole exploit."

"My aura?" I asked, remembering the last time I'd heard that word, I shuddered at the thought. I lifted my hand and gently placed it over hers where she fiddled with the hem of her tunic, "Well, what's it telling you now?"

Her eyes locked on mine, and the corner of her lip twitched playfully. Her face was intensely close to mine now that I'd sidled up so near to her that our hips were pressed together. I felt warmth rolling off her body in the hot cave. She was still shorter than me when we were sitting, so I had to bend my neck to meet her eyes. "You tell me," she answered slowly.

Her chin lifted and I put my other hand just below her cheek, her skin soft and sweaty against my palm. Her lips brushed softly against mine and her eyes closed leisurely. Slowly, she came closer, pressing her lips harder onto mine. I returned the gesture, cupping her face in my hands and pulling her nearer to me.

A thought occurred to me, and I remembered the last time I'd kissed her, on the deck, in the moonlight, tears streaming down her face. Again, I felt her limp in my arms at the beach, the life draining out of her, breathless, dying.

I pulled away from her, pushing myself into another corner and breathing heavily.

Another cheer erupted from the onlookers outside. I kept my eyes on Theresa. Her hair stuck to her temples and fell over her shoulder as she supported herself with both hands on the floor, panting. Her face was flushed from where I'd held her cheeks and jaw.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, looking away. "I shouldn't have… that was insensible of me. I'll just-"

"Wait!" I breathed as she stood. I scrambled to my feet and smacked my head on the roof of the cave. "Gah!"

I clutched my head and Theresa had her cold hands on my shoulders within seconds, forcing me down to the floor in a sitting position. She kneeled down next to me and put her icy palms over my fingers, gently rubbing circles on my scalp where the rock had met it. "I can't believe I just did that," she said after a moment of silence. The crowd whooped outside. "I'm sorry, Jay. I just seem to be making everything worse…" she kept on soothing my skin with her gentle fingers; it was making me drowsy. "I'm sorry," she said again.

"I'm not."

She pulled her hands away suddenly and I grabbed them, a confused look painted over her face. "But-"

"_But_ nothing," I pulled her down next to me; she didn't resist, but remained quiet for a time as I traced small circles over her palms with my thumbs. "Your hands are freezing," I said finally, finding the realization somewhat amiss considering the sweltering atmosphere around us. She jerked them suddenly out of my grasp and a piercing scream split the air. "Wow, I didn't mean that in a bad way."

She suddenly tensed, "That wasn't me." She scrambled to the mouth of the cave and halfway up the crest of grass to get a look at the field. I wanted to follow but as soon as I stood I felt dizzy. I tried shaking it off and crawled out to where Theresa crouched. Before I managed to sidle up next to her, she gasped and stood to catch something.

Jason fell over the crest of field and right onto Theresa, knocking her down as she tried to pull him into the cave. I scuttled to help and draped one of his arms over my shoulders, lifting him up into a standing position and dragging him onto the stony cave floor. He moaned agonizingly and Theresa was over him with a bucket of water and a piece of white cloth torn from the hem of her tunic. I managed to get a good look at him now that he was sprawled out on the ground. His face was red and sweaty from working in the sun and he had plenty of burns all over his arms and neck, but none that looked too serious. What stood out as the worst were wide tears in his calf and the skin between his shoulder blades that guzzled thick streams of dark blood.

I resisted the urge to lose my lunch.

"Jay," Theresa snapped. I looked away from Jason's bloodied body and met her eyes. "You're going to have to go out there."

"What?" my brain puzzled over her words, not quite understanding.

"You heard me. I'll take care of him. Go," her expression was inflexible. I swallowed loudly. She pulled her eyes away and searched through a canvas bag she'd brought with her, her other hand firmly applying pressure to the guzzling wound garnishing Jason's back. He started coughing uncontrollably, a sloppy mixture of blood and saliva pooling on the floor where his head lay. "Take this," Theresa ordered.

I caught the weapon she tossed at me clumsily, surveying it with an odd compilation of nostalgia and excitement. The golden hilt glinted in my grasp, a flat red ruby centering its balance. My thumb skimmed over the gem with a familiar sweep and with a swish a long, leafed blade hissed free. It was my Xyphos; except it wasn't. The instrument was younger, less experienced, but no more foreign than the hand that held it.

I smiled. _Hello, old friend_, I thought.

"What are you waiting for?" Theresa hissed. "Go!"

…

_**Any thoughts? Does Medea annoy anybody else? She kind of annoys me, but I guess that's the point. Short chapter, again. I kind of hate myself for it.**_

_**Please review if you enjoyed it! If I'm honest, this chapter was kind of difficult to write; that's part of the reason I took unreasonably long to update. It would be great to get some positive feedback or constructive criticism because, believe it or not, every review does help.**_

_**Thanks again and have a great day! :)**_


	21. Chapter 20: Bridges and Belfries

_**Thanks to everybody that left me a review; you guys have all of my love :3**_

_**Emma, healme13, classofthetitans711, HoneyGoddess57, Neonz, and Tinian I'att.**_

_**Also, thank you to everyone who keeps up with the story, I appreciate your support. It makes me feel better to know that I'm writing a story many people enjoy reading.**_

_**You guys get hugs and muffins!**_

…

_Chapter 20_

_Bridges and Belfries_

"Go!" Theresa demanded, simultaneously tossing the bloodied cloth she'd used to repress Jason's wounds at me. "And swipe some of that on your clothes while you're at it."

"What?" I held the fabric away from me, some of the blood streaming down my arms; it was still warm. "Why?"

She shot me an impatient look, "Everyone watching saw Jason get injured, you can't just walk back into a fight without looking a little beaten and bloody."

"Ugh, fine," I wrung the rag in my hands and mopped my clothes and shoulders with its contents, doing my best not to heave. "Toss me the salve," I ordered.

"No time." Theresa got up and shoved me towards the mouth of the cave, "Now get out of here before someone comes looking."

"But-"

"You'll be fine, Jay." She gave me one last edgy jostle and I landed face-first in the boiling soil beyond the cave, my sword in my palm being my only solace. I could hear the crowd muttering from behind their stone fence, some ordering women and children away from the scene to prevent them from seeing any gore, some taking charge and ordering a party to search for Jason's body. Most of the onlookers only murmured anxiously, many in fear; but it was obvious that no one planned on peeling their eyes away from the scene until they knew what was going on.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and slowly got to my feet, twirling my sword in my hand to reassure myself that I hadn't forgotten how to use it. I took a small step further up the tiny crest of long-grass, then another, calmly making my way into view of the crowd. My heart pumped loudly in my ears. There was a sharp intake of breath from beyond the fences, everyone drinking in my presence, noting that I was for the most part unharmed. Jason's blood dripped down my arms, streaming along the blade of my sword and staining its tip; it was rather uncomfortable but I tried to ignore it as best I could. Sweat trailed down my temples and stuck the ends of my longer hair to my face and neck.

The bulls were before me, one already yoked and tethered to a leather plough, looking worn and defeated with several dents in its metallic torso; the other stood nearby and glared at me with merciless fury, a smattering of dark red blood at the tip of one of its razor horns. Its eyes were on fire, sending anger and heat waves into the air above its body in ripples. The grass around the beast was charred, some of it still flaming and sending up plumes of black smoke. The bull snorted at me, steam billowing out of its monstrous nostrils.

There was silence in the field: no breezes to rustle the leaves or whistle through the long grass and thistles around me. My audience, like me, was holding its breath. I gripped my weapon tighter, letting my muscles strain and tense. The wind in my lungs escaped me slowly, assuredly.

I took a step forward. The bull clipped at the ground and I sped my pace. My breaths came quicker as I slowly circled the beast, still tense. Its flaming eyes followed me as I arced nearer, sword at the ready. The bull sent up a fresh veil of smoke and steam, and then… it charged.

I ran towards it with equal determination, dropping into a crouch and jumping out of its path at the last second. I got back onto my feet as the creature turned and skidded angrily in the soil. It charged and again I dodged its advance. The onlookers cheered suddenly and loudly with vigorous energy; everyone that hid behind the fences was now trying to become a part of the action again.

The beast turned again quickly as I pointed my sword at it. It surveyed me coldly and snorted again, waves of steam flitting across its smoky path. It began circling me, odd and catlike. Its feline approach was almost unnerving considering how fluidly its bronze skin moved. It was too quiet, too much like a practiced predator.

It began drooling.

Not the usual slobbery kind of animal drool; instead of saliva its metal mouth bled tongues of liquid flame that fell to the ground with flaring vehemence. Slowly but surely, all the dry grass beneath the slinking animal's hooves caught fire as it surrounded me in a ring of white-hot heat.

It slowed down and glared at me, before dropping the last bit of dribble to the ground and completing its loop, leaving me trapped inside a sweltering halo in the centre of the field. It didn't take long for the flames to grow to impossible lengths and mask my peripheral vision. Sweat guzzled down my back and arms, I could taste the salt of it in my mouth. I looked up; forks of flame were licking at the sun, caressing the bright orb with envy.

The worst part was the smoke. Slowly, it began blackening the sky above me. Violent clouds of grey swarmed my lungs as I breathed, choking me like vengeful ghosts. My vision started getting fuzzier as flames trailed languidly along the grass towards me, charring it with ruthless ferocity. I could no longer see the bull lurking about behind the veil of thick smoke and fire. The only sounds that reached me were clicks and crackles from the flames, an occasional roar of wind joining their ranks.

I kept rotating on the balls of my feet despite how dizzy I felt, my sword pointing at the flames regardless of whether or not they were still masking the beast. Then I started choking. There was no more clean air for me to take in, my brain was starting to go haywire. I had to think, come up with a plan, something. Considering the fact that the bulls were made of metal and had a habit of exhaling fire, chances were likely that they were created by Hephaestus; and one thing I knew for sure was that his inventions were corruptible, _especially _the older ones. It was all a matter of finding a sweet spot.

For Talos, it was his wonky heel; his other robots and automatons either had lazy gears or a fatal affinity for the god himself. A lot of them ended up sacrificing themselves to the god because of it. But I doubted very much that these creatures could display any form of emotion, especially to a god that tended to make himself relatively scarce.

I choked again. The only way I could do anything constructive was to get near the bull, but so far I couldn't think of any way to get out of my fiery prison. My coughing was getting too intense now, and it didn't help that sweat kept dripping into my eyes, my sword felt heavier and heavier with every sudden heave. It was when I had the sudden nerve to collapse in a heap on the ground that I heard a snort behind me.

I turned on my heel to face the blurry wrath of the bull. It stood with its torso engulfed by the wall of fire, if anything I would say it looked smug. It snorted again and began clipping at the ashy soil. I had to think, what was the weakest part of any bovine being? It obviously wasn't its torso, nor its mouth and nostrils for that matter. It had to be somewhere hard to reach.

It charged me and I made a slash for its thick neck. Instead of getting a shot in against the bronze I barely managed to escape its horns; it picked me up with its massive forehead and carried me straight through a wall of flame as it ran. The pain of having boiling plasma licking at my spine and the agony of having simmering metal against the bits of flesh exposed by my clothes and against my arms was enough to make me scream out of agony in battle for the first time since Cronus had broken my arm.

The bull came to a sudden stop and I was thrown in an arc across a quarter of the field that was still left unburned. The soft soil scratched my tender burned skin as if it was gravel and I curled up into a painful ball. My sword had left me, lying somewhere within the ring of flames; but my mind was absorbed by the intense amount of torture my body felt, the worst patches of my skin still bubbling from the heat.

The ground shook beneath me as the bull charged once more. It loomed over me within an instant, and, without thinking, I snatched the nearest rock and crammed it against the underside of the beast's hoof. It made an odd loud groaning sound and froze in its position, the angry flame in its eyes dimmed until only two empty, black crevices remained. The result of my action left the bull, simmering in its heat and steam, petrified with its two front legs in the air, one of them inches away from trampling my hammering heart.

It took a moment for the steam around me to clear; and there came a sudden roar of noise and loud cheering as the crowd went nuts. Cheers and whistles filled the air, an occasional _huzzah!_ echoing off the cliffside. My head spun frantically as I tried to orientate myself, and I could still taste the smoke circling my throat and lungs. I craned my neck in search of the cave and found that it was not too far off. I could see Theresa looking at me from the hillock that kept it hidden from the crowd's view, her hair glowing like its own fire in the sunlight. She looked like a deer trapped in headlights, beckoning me over to her.

The pain overtook me and I let out a hefty sigh. All I wanted was to fall asleep. But then I noticed the new danger; the uncontained blaze. It followed after the bull and trailed over to me with renewed energy, engulfing what was left of the unburned field around me. Sheer panic grappled at my resolve and I flipped over onto my belly, silently cursing as I began to leopard crawl towards the cave, the ground digging into my burns.

The crowd suddenly caught onto my motivation for vacating my perch and let out a collective gasp, screams replacing the former echoes of joy. Another wall of fire zoomed past me, blocking me once again from the crowd's view. It kept going though, and this time the wall of flame barred my way to safety and flitted across my only path to the cave where I knew Theresa was waiting for me. Smoke filled my lungs once more and I coughed, crying out as the nearing heat stung my burnt skin. My vision went fuzzy again and this time I let the pain and fatigue force my eyes closed. Theresa's doe eyes burned in my mind and her last words crackled like its own fire in my ears. _You'll be fine, Jay._

There was no way I was getting out of this.

After what felt like years of smoke filling my lungs, I was comfortable with the idea of dying; as long as it meant I could get some sleep.

Then I felt arms around me, strong but gentle.

I was sure I let out a whimper as I was hoisted up and a shoulder connected with my ribs. Fingers gripped my wrist as my arm swung across another shoulder and a cold, round something stuck to my palm. Then I was lifted up and felt I was being jostled as this person, my saviour, hauled me to safety with a steady but almost panicked pace. Panting, my saviour sped up; and before I finally let myself drift away into darkness, he whispered, "You're safe now."

…

"_Can't you hear the sirens?" Theresa beamed at me. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, stray curls falling out by the nape of her neck. Herry laughed cheerily in the driver's seat next to her, swerving to avoid a car._

"_What?" I asked her, completely confused. "I don't hear any sirens." Then they started, a wailing cacophony of electric noises. Police? An ambulance? The fire brigade? I had no idea; they all seemed to bleed into one loud, tinny noise. The _Welcome to New Olympia _sign flew past my window as we sped up. Herry laughed again._

_I looked around frantically; Odie was typing away hysterically on his laptop keyboard in the seat beside me and Archie was leaning against the window beside the small boy, using his nails to chip at the glass with a bored expression. They were the only other people in the truck. I was getting restless; the noises were getting higher and louder._

_A laugh bubbled through the radio speakers, low and smug. It became familiar, twisting like a devious smile. Everything got louder, all the sounds of sirens, laughter and swerving tires melting together. My ears rang and I looked at Odie, except, it wasn't Odie anymore. A faceless, colourless… creature sat beside me, pawing at me with its many liquid limbs. I backed off as it grabbed hold of my wrist. I wanted to yell for Theresa to help me, but she and Herry had gone, vanished, leaving two empty seats and a self-motivated steering wheel behind. The creature came closer, its gel-like body closing in around me. The sound of my own thoughts was drowned out by a mechanical hum that had replaced the dramatic ringing from before. The cold creature pounced until it covered me completely._

I screamed.

"Jay! Jay, calm down. Please, be quiet!" two cold hands pushed my shoulders back down onto scratchy ground. "You have to stay still, Jay."

I stopped screaming and tried to open my eyes, my heart thundering in my chest. I immediately regretted it as streams of dim light filtered into my irises and my head began to buzz. "Wha- what's going on? Where-"

"Shhh!" a cold finger hit my lips. "Stay quiet, Jay."

I lay still and tried to focus my vision. The light wasn't as bright as I'd originally thought, it was actually rather dim. Theresa had moved her hands to the sides of my face to keep me still. She made hushing noises as the kneeled down beside me, her face anxious and creased with worry.

"Theresa," I whispered, "what-"

"Don't move," she ordered. "I haven't done your back yet." As soon as she mentioned it I could feel the skin on my back stinging and prickling against the gravelly floor. From that I knew I was back in the cave again. It hurt more than the fiery pits of Hades, and I could feel my eyes beginning to tear up as I tried to keep my painful gasps under control.

"How did I get back here?" I asked softly, letting out another painful gasp.

Her fingers worked against the blistered tissue that I used to call a bicep, applying a sort of balm that soothed the stinging. I was acutely aware that I was only in my boxers, my toga lying somewhere off to the side of the cave in a burnt heap. "You crawled as far as you could before the fires blocked your path. Jason ran out of the cave when he was safe from being seen by the crowds and carried you back here."

A million thoughts swarmed through my mind at once. I almost sat up and had to grit my teeth when a new wave of burns shot over me. "Jason? But his leg… how did he-"

"The same salve I'm applying to your wounds now. What Medea gave you to protect you from the flames, I had my suspicions. It's a healing salve, not a fireproof one. It's the same one I gave you for your battle scars after you got mauled by poultry." The memory drizzled back and I still felt embarrassed by it. Theresa gently put her hands on my shoulders again and helped pull me up into a sitting position. She sighed, "In all likelihood it would have left you in ashes if you'd applied it before facing the bulls. It's a miracle Jason didn't get lit up very badly since he'd nearly drowned himself in the stuff."

She motioned for me to turn onto my front and I winced with the effort, doing my best to suppress my cries. "Where is he now?" I managed to choke the question out. "How long have I been lying here?"

She dropped another rag into the last pail of water and wrung it out over me to wash off any gravel that would have stuck to my raw skin. It was cool and I welcomed it. "Not long, about an hour at most. Jason had to wait for the flames to die before he could go outside and impress the crowd again. It actually helped that the whole field was burning; ashy soil is easier to plough so he should be close to finished with his work in the field, considering that he only has one bull to help him plough instead of two. But thanks to you, Jay, you single-handedly managed to make a day's worth of work only take up a few hours."

"Yeah, well… I'm not entirely certain that the whole ordeal was a fair trade. How long exactly will it take for these things to heal?"

"Give it roughly an hour. But you'll stop having any burning or stinging sensations once the salve has settled in against your skin."

"You're joking."

"What do you mean?"

"Burns like these should take weeks, heck, _months_ to heal. You're telling me I only have to wait an hour and I'll be good as new?" I wanted to turn and face her but my body protested at the movement. Theresa started applying the balm to the seared skin on my back.

"Normally yes, it would take that long. But this is a powerful concoction. It was blessed by a god, a fire god no less, so normal is not an option." Her cool hands helped soothe a bit of the irritation, and after a while I didn't even feel the burns anymore. Theresa spoke up after a little while, "Your chest and arms got the worst of it, and that's saying something. It was smart of you to do what you did, though I'm curious as to how you knew where to hit the bull."

My throat was irritated by all the smoke I'd inhaled so my voice sounded oddly rickety, "You and me both." I paused. "Theresa…"

"Hmm?"

"About you and Jason, I-"

"Let's not talk about this now, Jay. Just have some water, you sound awful." She stood and picked up a pail of water, almost shoving it at me with a playful smile.

I grabbed at it greedily, gladly guzzling as much of it as I could. The water wasn't as cool as I'd hoped it would be, but I was thankful for it nonetheless. I heard the crowd cheering again outside and I wondered how Jason was doing. If my calculations were correct then it was already early afternoon, and we still had two tasks left to complete before sunset.

Then I thought about my dream. Something was different about it this time; I just couldn't put my finger on it exactly. I could still hear the metallic hum of the tune to Theresa's music box, and it gave me a sudden idea. The box itself was still in my satchel beneath the floorboards beside my mattress in the _Argo_'s kitchen. If I had some means of getting it, I could show it to Theresa and see if it triggered some sort of response in her memories from before she was brought here. Granted, it was a long shot that had no guarantee of working; but she had told me it was a christening gift from her grandmother, so she would definitely have gotten it before she turned six.

My mind reeled, and in my excitement I didn't notice Jason's sudden reappearance. He exhaled heftily by the mouth of the cave with a caustic grin, "I am never going to plough another field for as long as I live. The crowds are going absolutely mad all of a sudden." He grinned at Theresa, sparing me no eye contact whatsoever. "I'm going back up to see the king about the next task; that should leave you about ten minutes before the crowds disperse. Don't leave the cave until then." He narrowed his eyes and used his captain's voice for the last bit.

Theresa stood up and turned her back to him, making a small noise as if to confirm that she'd heard him. Her lack of appropriate response seemed to ruffle him and he took a step towards her, catching her shoulder roughly.

"Wha-" she couldn't finish her outburst. Jason pulled her hastily against him and planted his mouth over hers. Theresa was too shocked by this sudden display of authority to push herself away from him.

I could feel my ears turning red with shock and anger. Jason didn't pull away from her for almost a full minute, and before he removed his face from hers, he winked at me over Theresa's shoulder. Then he fluttered out of the cave indignantly with one last command, "Meet me in front of the palace when you leave, Theresa. And make sure _he _isn't visible when you get there.

Theresa's face was crimson. I could almost hear her growling at the trail of audacity Jason had left behind. She snapped at me, "Don't just sit there, Jay. Get up and put something on."

I stood anxiously, "You know I'm all for getting myself clothed and not having to walk around in my underwear, but don't you think it would rally more attention from onlookers if I were to step into the daylight looking like this?" I gestured at my attire: burnt, torn leather sandals and a pair of boxers a brighter scarlet than my face at that moment.

She picked up my burnt white tunic and said softly, "I suppose you're right." She sighed, "Do you have anything else to wear that isn't too noticeable?"

I thought about the sweatpants and T-shirt I had in my satchel back on the ship and suddenly felt self-conscious; I missed wearing pants. "No," I sighed and lifted my tunic up in front of me, "I guess I'll just have to make due with whatever's left of this thing."

There wasn't much. The tunic had holes all over and was crisped along its hem and sleeves. The red of my boxers would definitely be poking through; but no matter. I'd had more embarrassing experiences than walking around in public in my underwear.

…

Archie was livid.

"Where have you been?" he snapped. "Do we not have a mission that demands our immediate attention? Is it really so hard for you to stop disappearing without a word and then turn up in front of me looking like a steamed lobster with a bad haircut. Then you go and make it worse by telling me you were farming with Jason and Theresa? What is the matter with you, Jay?"

"All I did was ask the time, Arch." I held my palms up in surrender and slipped on an extra tunic I found in Neil's satchel. I'd slowly made my way back up to the ship with Theresa in tow, who was now waiting outside my so-called 'bedchamber' that I shared with Basil while I searched Neil's things and got changed. As it turns out, there wasn't much need for me to be incognito as we snuck past the crowds; they were far too absorbed in what was happening at the palace than by Jason's fiancée and a boy in red underpants keeping cover on their way to the docks.

I'd kept Neil's bag next to mine since we'd lost him, but I hadn't gone through its contents until now. All that was really inside it was a comb, his odd bottle of cologne he'd sprayed at everyone who walked by, his usual outfit, and an extra chiton tunic. At the same time, I grabbed my sword from my own satchel and slipped the hilt into the belt of my boxers. After what happened today, I reveled in not being able to have the blade near me. But I kept Theresa's music box in my hand, its long chain tickling my palm. I said a silent prayer that my plan would have veritable results.

Archie kept on rambling, "I don't care. Either way, you should have said something to _someone_ – and I don't mean Theresa. What would have happened if you'd gotten hurt, Jay?" his ever-present scowl intensified. "You can't come back again if you…"

I looked at him. "You really don't have to say it, Arch. And for the record, I'm not as dimwitted and spontaneous as you may think I am. I have a plan."

He glared at me, "You've been saying that for weeks."

I gave him a shrug, "I've been lying all those other times."

"Oh? And what makes this time any different?"

"Because I can predict the future." I wiggled my fingers at him mysteriously.

Technically, I wasn't lying. I _could_ predict the future, because I knew my mythology. I already knew about the other two tasks Jason had to complete, and I knew how to synch a win. Suffice it to say, I was feeling oddly confident in my plan. Theresa opened the door a crack and peeped into the room with a sour expression.

"Jason and Medea are looking for you."

Archie muttered something unintelligible and kicked at the dust on the floor of the room as the captain came in with his new stalker. In the original myth, Aphrodite made Medea fall in love with Jason to help him complete his tasks with her knowledge of sorcery. This explained her seemingly sudden infatuation with the sailor, whereas the only effect he had on me was making my skin crawl when he entered the room. Right now, she was clinging to his elbow like a cat would cling to a scratch post. Theresa filed into the room warily after them.

I clutched her music box pendant behind my back.

Jason started, "The king has issued the next task, in which we must-"

"Let me guess," I interrupted. "You have to sew a handful of dragon's teeth to grow an army of skeleton Spartan warriors and fight beside them with your crew to defeat the Amazon warriors that have started making camp on one of the island's beaches."

Jason looked thoroughly perplexed by this, "I… yes, how did you-"

"And of course your third task," I continued, beginning to pace slowly in the small space, "Is to enter the caves of the northern volcano, slip past the dragon that sleeplessly guards the Golden Fleece, and successfully bring said sheep fuzz back to the king where a great feast will be had in your honour." I took a breath, "Any questions?"

Everyone in the room gaped at me, except Archie, who looked like he wanted to slap me in the face. But I felt suddenly euphoric as the cogs started slowly grinding away in my brain, forming an impromptu plan in my mind that seemed so impenetrable, there was no way I was going to give up the floor to anyone else.

I went on, "Very well. I've decided to hurry along the process a bit to ensure we don't miss our deadline. Jason, you and your crew will proceed with the second task and defeat the Amazons, just remember to throw a stone into the ranks of the Spartan army before they try and strip the flesh from the bones of you and your men. Meanwhile, myself and a select few will sneak into the caves and get the Fleece from the dragon. It shouldn't take more than about three of us, with the help of the sleeping draught I assume Medea is housing up her sleeve as we speak, no doubt having already known what the third task consisted of."

Medea looked too stunned to be angry and slowly slid a corked porcelain vial out of her pocket and looked at it. "How did you know about this?" her eyes narrowed. "About all of this?"

I tightened my grip on the music box behind my back and thought about the Theresa I'd lost in space. Her soft golden tresses, her kind, tired eyes, her mint-green T-shirt with that ridiculous pink ice-cream cone on it, and the sweet scent of fresh green apples that rolled off her body in waves. Most of all I missed her playful innocence, and her soft, sugary kisses.

I looked Medea in the eye and answered tersely, "The right motivation." A new surge of confidence overtook me as my lips moved. As the words left my mouth, my mind reeled with a repetitive promise.

_I'm coming, Theresa._

…

_**Whoop! Another chapter done! And this one is actually longer than most of the previous ones. Half the time I tried to make it really lighthearted, because I knew the upcoming chapters are going to be somewhat intense (if anyone cares).**_

_**What I'm really trying to do is establish a difference in character between this Theresa and the one I wrote in chapter two. Because while Jay is still very fond of this Theresa's spirit and genuine emotions, he misses the way she would be more lighthearted and less secretive. Do you guys notice a difference between the two ways I wrote Theresa? Or should I try a little harder to emphasize it?**_

_**Secondly, I would love to know where you all think this story is headed? Because I have thrown in a lot of foreshadowing and I'm curious as to whether anyone has picked up on some of it.**_

_**Reviews very much welcomed! Constructive criticism strongly suggested.**_


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